Love is a Battlefield
by Arimay
Summary: Selene and Michael anxiously await the arrival of their first child. But immortal love is never meant to be easy, and there's bound to be some problems along the way; like the past catching up after six centuries. Rated for language and graphic scenes.
1. Chapter 1: Damp Sheets

**Author's Note**

I just wanted to put a brief note here to explain the setting. I've left out a bit of a gap between The Full Circle and this story. I'm still trying to find the inspiration to write that part…

This picks up about six months after The Full Circle. Selene and Michael are no longer in their Budapest apartment, but were approached by the new leader of the cleaners, Arthur Riley. He _"made them an offer they couldn't refuse"_ (hehe) and they decided to join the merry band of cleaners.

Setting-wise, we're looking at a sort of secluded spot near the Carpathian Mountains.

Thanks for reading.

Ari

**Chapter One:**

**Damp Sheets  
**

_Writhing, panting, gasping. _

_The feel of sheets damp with sweat. _

_The steady motion of the grind, the aching need of fulfilment and completion. _

_So much passion, so much ecstasy. _

_So much pain._

_Tears now, falling to mingle with the fluids already blended in the fabric of the sheets. _

_Then, again, the pulsating urgency. _

_The rapid motions of the first of all needs. Procreation created this act. Fears are long since forgotten. _

_But the pain stays, all too real._

_Warmth within. Those final tantalising moments of climax where that glistening prize is claimed._

_And yet more fluids to cover the sheets._

_He stumbles from the bed, bare and glistening in the moonlight. Shadows hide his expression as he turns around. Hair falls across his face, all so endearing._

_The words need not come. No requisite explanation. Need is fulfilled and emptiness returns._

_More tears._

_He returns now, warm hands upon her cheeks. Wet with tears. Tenderness exudes from a kiss to the palm._

'_Do not go,' those whispered words, 'Please do not go,' repeated in sorrow._

'_You know I must.' No explanations required. They know why. This cannot be. Theirs is a world that would not understand, would curse them._

'_But I need you here,' hands grasped in pleading. More kisses. Life is mere emptiness without love and passion._

_Their passion. Once more in those damp sheets. Tender kisses, stroking tongues. Penetration deep within, and sweat again._

_She cries, 'I need you!' Taken now to a new and better place. No dreamers or broken hearts. Only passion. No more betrayal._

_And now the hunger. Deep within, movement, nausea. She grasps his shoulders. 'No!' she cries. 'Stay with me!'_

_He now lies beside her. They watch each other in silence. Bare bodies in the moonlight, on a bed of damp sheets. She knows he must leave. He knows he cannot bare it._

_The silence breaks, 'I must tell you,' her voice soft. 'You cannot leave me like this.' Eyes full of tears. 'I cannot do this without you.'_

_Confusion strikes his mind. Incomprehension reigns, 'You will be fine.'_

_His hand taken in hers. Pressed now to her skin, soft skin._

'_Your child,' her words, 'Grows within me.'_

_Tears fall yet again._

* * *

A cold sweat covered her body, causing the thin sheet to stick uncomfortably. It was that dream again, that all too real vision of the past that somehow she could not delete.

Beside her, Michael slept soundly. If nothing more, it indicated that tonight unlike others she had not cried out to awaken him. He was always so anxious for her, always so caring. Had her mind not been in such turmoil, his deep and peaceful breaths would have lulled her into her own pleasant slumber. As it was, sleep was becoming as untouchable as the very dreams that kept her awake.

Careful not to stir her sleeping mate, she peeled the sheet's covering from her, sliding uneasily out of their queen-size bed. She took a moment on the edge of the bed to rearrange the oversized black night shirt she wore to bed before she awkwardly got to her feet, bound for the bathroom.

The carpet beneath her feet was course and scratchy; the air thick with a choking moisture. Her skin still prickled with sweat, even her hair clung to her face in dampened strands. It was all tiresome, too bothersome for her mood this early in the morning. But she knew that it was, in fact, just her mood that was portraying all of her regular surroundings as annoyances. She was uncomfortable, exhausted, and above all troubled by her nightly dreams of a love and lover that were long deceased.

She pushed the door open to their adjoining bathroom, sighing at the rush of cold air that greeted her from the porcelain tiled room. Her feet felt more at ease on the cool tiles, while the chill in the air removed the prickles from her skin.

It did not remove her thoughts of the past, however. She feared that nothing short of death would remove those thoughts. His face was now distorted in her memory, his body's outline no doubt warped with centuries since she had last seen him. But his softly sensual voice with its intoxicating lilt played on her always. The way he made her feel, the way he tormented her on the brink of ecstasy time and time again. Even though their love had been forbidden, she still felt a thrill at the impending danger of being caught.

And then the pregnancy.

As she looked in the mirror above the sink, she realised that her plaguing dreams were not completely without a catalyst. Here she was, six centuries after those tumultuous times, sleeping nightly beside someone that she loved. The swell of her stomach was a constant reminder of the present, and of the love she felt for Michael Corvin.

But it was also a reminder of the past; of the forbidden love, of the unwanted pregnancy, and of being left alone once she found the strength to tell the father of their unborn child.

The child within her now was wanted, though not expected or planned. Both she and Michael thrilled at the idea of becoming parents, and of sharing something wonderful that was created from their love. She smiled as she placed her hands on her stomach. She knew Michael would never leave, that he would do anything to see both her and their child through to the end of this pregnancy.

She would not lose this child as she did the last.

Her smile faded as a new memory replaced the first. The pain of her most extreme loss: not only her forbidden lover, but of their child. The agony she had felt, unable to tell her family its cause. They rallied around her in her time of need, but they never knew the truth. If they had, she was certain they would have sent her away.

"Selene?"

She startled at the sound of her mate's voice, realising she had spent more time than necessary away from their bed. Tears were stinging her eyes, and she found she could not allow Michael to see her in such a state. She leant over the sink, running the cold water she splashed on her face. When she straightened, she found his arms snaking around her.

"Are you okay?" he whispered against her neck, his breath a pleasant warm contrast to the chill of the bathroom.

She nodded, giving him a smile to still his concern. "I couldn't sleep." She found her voice to be broken. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

Michael shook his head, trailing his lips along her shoulder as he did. "I wanted to hold you, but you weren't there." He raised his face to meet her gaze in the mirror. "Was it the dream again?"

She hesitated before nodding slowly. He did not know the true content of the dreams. After waking with a cry, awaking him in the process, she needed to feed him some story.

She told him it was the centuries of battle, of the lycans she had killed. However deserving, she had said, becoming a mother now enforced the consequences of her actions. Now she realised that each lycan she had killed was a son, a daughter; possibly even a mother or a father. She said that the reality of what she had done had caught up with her, and it hurt.

It was not at all true: she never regretted slaying what she believed to be her enemies. The lycans were curs, and while each one she killed had been someone's child once upon a time, so had she. She was someone's child, and she had seen her entire family lay slain by Viktor; someone that she had since looked up to as a father figure. Someone she had since killed.

Shit happened.

She hated being so dishonest, hated lying to Michael when all he did was care for her. Yet she still felt the fear of rejection if he was to find out the truth.

He turned her in his arms so that they were face to face. Rather than kiss her, he merely held her. She stayed in his embrace a moment before allowing her arms to encircle him.

"I don't want you involved in any of the work here," he said in a low voice. "Not if it's causing you this much anxiety."

"No." She pulled herself away from him, seeking out his eyes. "I want to be involved. The dreams are manageable." She knew it was a feeble lie, whether he knew the truth in her dreams or not. She did not believe her own words, and did not have the strength to back them. "Besides, the squad needs me."

"Selene, you haven't properly slept in days. When you do sleep, you're restless and you keep crying out. You need rest. It's not healthy for you to go on like this."

She loved his concern, loved his care. She hated that she caused those lines of worry to break out on his young, handsome face.

"I can't give it up, Michael." To her astonishment, she found her voice emerging with a tremble. "The war is all I've known. Without it, I'm-" She paused to sigh, now allowing her tears to fall. "Lost," she finished in a whisper. "I'm nothing."

His warm hand grazed her cheek. "It's not all you are anymore, Selene." He placed his hand on her stomach, circling a path with his thumb. "You're going to be a mother. You're carrying our baby. The war will not end without you. But you must take this time to rest. Going on like this, you're only harming yourself."

She followed his trailing hand, picturing their growing child within. She knew he spoke only the truth and that his words were borne of love rather than created to instil fear. Still, she could not shake the feeling that to withdraw from the frontline would give her cause for more anxiety.

She stood on a knife's edge, teetering dangerously; one side meant her sanity would be saved, but risked the life of her child. The other provided motherhood as long as she could settle for stillness for the remaining two months of her pregnancy.

Closing her eyes, she let her tears fall unguarded. He knew her turmoil in this instance, knew how hard it was for her to leave her old life behind.

Michael's fingers brushed her chin, raising her face to his. "For our baby," he said softly. "And for me. Please." He closed in, his lips meeting hers for a soft, sweet kiss. "Please," he repeated against her lips.

This time, it was she that initiated the kiss. Tightening her hold, she gripped him as if afraid he would float away. She held that kiss, moaning slightly as she felt the flick of his tongue against hers.

When she finally pulled away, she was breathless. It was her turn to whisper against his lips. "For you, I would do anything."

It was his moan that sounded as he kissed her once more, gathering her into his arms without breaking that kiss. He carried her to the bed.

Once more she found herself in sweat dampened sheets; this time beneath a body that she was certain loved her. His pace was slow and gentle to avoid the risk of affecting their unborn child, yet his thrusts still had all the ingredients to drive her gasping to the edge of ecstasy.

Once she had come down from that high, the turmoil within her returned. She lay with her mate pressed against her back, his arms wrapped around her middle, his hands protecting their unborn child even in sleep.

Her last thought as her mind fought those last cling-on tendrils of consciousness was one that did not ease her conscience.

The face of her sister, swollen and red with tears.

And the innocent, questioning faces of her darling nieces.

How could she have betrayed them so?


	2. Chapter 2: Coping

**Chapter Two:**

**Coping**

The Carpathian compound of the cleaners boasted a total of ten floors; two above ground and the remaining eight below. There was enough room onsite to house the forty eight active soldiers and their leaders, the thirty seven communications staff, ten security specialists, three medical staff, the commander of the cleaners along with his assistant and three personal guards. In addition to rooms and sleeping quarters, the compound also had its own gymnasium with shooting range, its own underground parking garage with secret access to every road around the Carpathian Mountains, and a fully stocked clinic.

Every one of the rooms for the mortals was located below ground. As if treated like royalty, it was Michael and Selene who were granted the mansion-like two story house aboveground. There were even spare empty bedrooms for whatever family they would have in the future.

Despite all of the room in the compound, there was little to do in the mansion that was not in some way related to mission work or scouting. There was television featuring full range of satellite, as well as computer and web access in every room, a decent assortment of books collated over the decades by the employees of Corvinus, and a courtyard that was so tranquil it simply lulled you to sleep.

But none of these appealed to a mind that had been constantly engaged in battle for six centuries.

Selene felt as though she had been told to switch off, forget everything, close her mind to the past in order to focus on the future. She may have understood the reasoning behind Michael's request, but that did not mean she had to be happy with it.

In the back of her mind, she wondered if there was a possibility that she would lose Michael if anything happened to the baby. He was kind and caring, very supportive and understanding of her needs. His numerous requests for her to take it easy had fallen on deaf ears until this point. It had taken many sleepless nights and Michael's solemn and serious request on the life of their child for her to listen.

Maybe he was not the kind of man to say _'I told you so'_ in the event of things going wrong. At the very least, she figured that any loss would mean a drastic change in their relationship.

As much as she liked to maintain her independence, Selene found it hard to grasp the concept of losing Michael. They had been together less than two years, hardly even a blink of an eye in her lifespan. They had experienced so much together, as a couple and as two individuals running from the immortal war, that her need of him was greater than she cared to admit.

Dare she say it; she felt a little resentful of him because of it.

He needed without a worry; he was still so human, so mortal, that the independence of species had not yet crept into his blood. While he stayed with her, Selene doubted it ever would.

But here she was, seven months pregnant, six centuries old, and tied to an almost mortal hybrid; her bond with him so strong that she was willing to bend to his most extreme and somewhat outrageous command.

And so now, when she could have been attending the squadron debriefs in the boardroom, or taking part in a strategy meeting with the other members of her unit, or even sparring good-naturedly with one of her comrades, Selene found herself in the main weapons hold, gazing forlornly at the weapons that she could now only long to fire.

She had checked and rechecked every item; each of the Glocks, UMPs, P99s and her personal favourite Beretta M9s. She counted out each round of ammunition on hand, completing a checklist that had been completed the previous evening. Perhaps it was overkill, but a necessary one in Selene's opinion.

Now there was little else to do.

On the table before her was a stripped M9. Perhaps subconsciously, she ran her fingers gently over each of the weapons parts, handling them with care.

The same way she would now stroke her swollen stomach.

A knock sounded at the door to the hold. Though she heard it, she chose not to respond. If it was urgent enough, the figure would enter the room whether acknowledged or not.

And indeed he did.

Calvin Farkas, with the clean-shaven face of a teenager, and the wiry build of a scholar, entered awkwardly, loaded down by seven sub machine guns of varying makes. He seemed to halt as he saw Selene, and seemed almost ready to back out the door until she spoke.

"Its okay, Farkas," she said softly, smiling to ease whatever discomfort lay in the situation. "You can come in."

"Sorry, miss." The young man's inexperience shone through whenever he found himself before Selene. Many of the mortal members of the coven had seen immortals only in books and training films. As a result, when dealing with either Selene or Michael, the only immortals in the coven, and likely the most powerful immortals on the face of the earth, they seemed to turn silent, and a sickly shade of greenish-white.

Their thoughts were almost transparent. They saw immortals as murdering curs. They were all aware of the diet that the immortals required. It evoked a high amount of fear from most. The minority were the men built for combat, which took one look at Selene and laughed off any thought of fear. That was an initial reaction that was quick to change when she had them at the mercy of a strong neck hold.

Of course, displaying her skills in such a way was not ideal in a situation where the majority turned into gibbering messes like the one in front of her now, and it was hardly a possibility in her current condition. Things had improved over the two months they had been at the compound, but they were far from perfect. Even now, Selene could see she had a lot of work to do in order to set her comrades at ease around her.

Farkas just happened to be the ideal specimen to work with. He was a non-combat member of the compound, hired purely as commander Arthur Riley's assistant. With no weapons training, Selene decided he was perfect to test her more human traits on.

He re-shouldered two of the weapons and took four steps toward her before stopping. He made it seem casual, however the line of sweat on his upper lip stated otherwise. The prospect of having to pass Selene to get to the holds was daunting.

"I didn't realise anyone was in here," he said now, trying unsuccessfully to wipe the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his sweater. "I called and no-one said anything. So I thought-"

As his voice trailed off, Selene could hear the fierce pounding of his heart, the racing adrenaline in his veins. Ordinarily it was a kind of aphrodisiac, or at least a major temptation to any kind of vampire. In her current state of mind, and given the nervous energy Farkas was radiating the situation was putting a horrible taste in her mouth.

"Here," she started, ignoring his slight jump at her sudden standing. "Let me help you."

"Oh, no, that's-" Before he could finish, Selene had taken three of the weapons and shelved them carefully.

"Thank you, miss," he said in a kind of surprised awe.

Selene sighed. "I've told you, Farkas. Call me Selene. I'm not royalty."

"Sorry."

He followed the steps she had taken, shelving the remaining weapons just as carefully.

"Should you be doing all this though?" he asked, turning to face her hesitantly. "Mr. Corvin – ugh – I mean Michael, said that you were supposed to be resting."

She found the seat beneath her and sat. Her eyes lowered to the pieces of the M9 before her. So, not only was she requested by her loving partner to stay out of all war-related issues, but he had also passed the ruling onto the rest of the compound staff. For the first time in her life, Selene felt outnumbered.

Whether out of an emotional surge or a reaction to all that had happened, all at once, she felt her eyes begin to sting with the onset of tears.

"I'm sorry," Farkas said quickly. "It's not my place to say anything. I should just shut up."

He moved to walk past her toward the door. She stopped him with a hand on his arm. It made her cringe to feel his sudden tension at her touch.

"Please," she said softly, the first tears sliding down her cheeks. "Don't be sorry. I am the one who should be sorry."

"You?" The innocent green eyes of Calvin Farkas glistened beneath his furrowed brow. "Why?"

She shrugged, a weak smile forming on her lips. "For making you uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable." Maybe it was the haste with which he answered, or the near hysterical hint in his voice, or possibly even the slight twitch of his eye when he spoke; Selene did not buy his response, and his reaction made her laugh out loud.

She was hormonal, which was obvious. One did not go from being a death dealing vampire to a basket case without decent cause. She was also vastly becoming sleep deprived, and with the idea of being grounded fresh on the idea board, she found the brink of hysteria drawing closer each second.

The expression on Farkas' face was enough to bring her back to the realm of sobriety.

"I keep telling everyone, you don't have to fear us," she said quietly. "Michael and I, we're the same as everyone else here. We may be stronger and faster, but we're not about to go on a feeding frenzy."

Farkas swallowed, leaning towards her as he spoke. "It's not you we're most afraid of," he said in whisper.

She raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you trembling, Farkas?"

He looked down at himself, as if to search for proof of his trembling. Selene smirked at his behaviour. He was so mortal it amused her.

"It's not you," he repeated, more certain this time. "Honestly. It's just that wherever you are, Michael tends to be."

Selene's lips parted in shock. "You're afraid of Michael?" Even her voice held a trace of laughter to it.

Seeming slightly insulted, Farkas straightened. "You've had longer to abstain from the pleasures of human blood." His words sounded as if they came straight from a textbook. "You're used to the temptation, you can avoid it. Michael's newer to the blood drinking. I've read that the cravings can be unbearable, and with us around…" He trailed off; swallowed, and then made a quick look behind him as if afraid someone was listening.

Selene's smile was genuine and calming. "I can assure you, Michael has no problems dealing with his cravings around all of you. He feeds regularly, I make sure of it."

The smile that Farkas returned was hesitant, but no less genuine. "You're going to make a great mother, Selene."

Her smile faltered. "Was Michael in the briefing this morning?" she asked, feeling a need to change the subject.

"No. He was off looking for you. I guess he didn't check in here."

Selene nodded, allowing another sigh to escape her lips. "I'll go and find him." She slowly stood from the table.

"He's in a meeting now," Farkas added, almost as an afterthought. He had turned to leave the room.

"Meeting?" Selene frowned. "What for?"

Farkas turned, shrugged in the doorway. "I'm not sure. I think he's interviewing the lycan that was brought in last night." He turned again and walked away, leaving Selene in stunned silence.

A lycan had been brought to the compound. It was not a regular occurrence, but it was she who was meant to deal with all matters relating to captives. When she was not available, then one of the more experienced squad leaders at the compound would handle any meetings. Michael, despite the ease with which he had changed from human to immortal, was in no way experienced enough to deal with a newcomer.

The lycan could be a spy, could be dangerous. There was any number of problems that her love may have to face in a room with a lycan.

And what if they hadn't sedated the monster first? What if Michael went in unarmed? He could be attacked. For all she knew, he could be lying in a pool of blood right now…

As she hurried from the room, bound for the interview rooms, she wondered if she would be the only one to see the danger in this.


	3. Chapter 3: Ghosts Returned

**Chapter Three:**

**Ghosts Returned**

The interview rooms, along with holding cells for arrested immortals, were located on the eighth underground floor, the bottom of the building not including the garage. Normal procedure called for a two-to-one ratio: two compound members to every vampire or lycan brought in. The detainees were held in the cells overnight to be interviewed the following morning, often under mild sedation to prevent dangerous outbursts.

Behind the two-way mirror stood the commander of the cleaners and head of the household, Arthur Riley, along with his two personal guards. It was normal for Riley to be present but not seen during these interviews, for it was he who decided what would become of the immortal following their interview.

It began.

"My real name is Matthias. Thorne was the name I used among the Lycan communities."

Michael Corvin had missed out on the discussions about their new capture, held during the briefing. He was not normally considered the most knowledgeable when it came to new immortals, given his only recent change. It just happened that Matthias had been a peaceful detainee, voluntarily giving himself in to the scout squadron the night before. Since he was not considered a threat, Riley had permitted Michael to conduct the interview.

Beside him, the leader of the Delta squadron who had found the lycan, Isaac Baxter, sat listening. Baxter's role was one of back-up in case the lycan got nasty; he was armed with two fully-loaded P99s. Looking at the lycan, Michael doubted whether it was necessary.

Matthias was Michael's height, with a similarly slight build. The subtle muscles that bulged beneath his white t-shirt were the kind obtained by constant physical activity, rather than body building. He had the colouring of coffee with cream, his chestnut hair cut short to his scalp.

His accent was British, with only the faintest trace of Hungarian. Although he looked at the table before him as he spoke, he exuded a kind of confidence in his voice that suggested that he was not afraid; a little nervous, perhaps, but not afraid.

"I was made a lycan by a bloodthirsty new-blood. He tracked me down, attacked me, and then left me for dead. It was years before I found a clan to belong to. Even then, they treated me like their slave. I was branded, their servant for sixty years. Then I escaped."

Unable to fathom a period of torture enduring sixty years, Michael felt his brow crease. As Matthias spoke, Michael glanced at the lycan's markings. Tattoos of barbed wire curled around each of his wrists. He bore multiple scars; the worst of which was a raised scar that moved from his neck down below the line of his shirt. Judging from the position, Michael guessed that whoever had caused the mark had only narrowly missed his jugular. It was no doubt this mark which had changed him.

"Since then," Matthias continued, inhaling between his teeth. "I've been drifting mostly. Around Europe to begin with; I spent some time in America with a clan I became quite close with. Then I went to England for a while. I've been on the continent seventy years, or so."

"Why aren't you with a clan now?" Michael asked, instinctively leaning forward in anticipation of the answer.

"The vampires wiped out my clan."

He looked up then. Michael suddenly felt himself drowning in pools of crystalline water. He sat back in his seat, gaining a lifeline.

"I had a mate. Bastards murdered her. Everyone I loved." Matthias' hands balled into fists now, and his voice was audibly strained when he continued. "I wanted revenge, but I knew I couldn't seek it. There were five hundred vampires, and one of me. The big dens wouldn't help me. I'm only a servant to them."

"Why is that?" This question came from Baxter.

"I'm not pure blood. I was never meant to be. I'm just a lycan by accident. They can smell it on me." His eyes turned to Michael once more. "You can too."

It wasn't a question, but Michael nodded slowly. Something very primal was sending signals to his brain. The scent of the lycan was off, somehow: it was like an incomplete thought.

"So I've stayed away from clans and dens since," Matthias concluded. "I know what happens. I watched the vampires and lycan dens from afar, but never engaged in combat. My scent doesn't register when they're searching. To them, I'm just another random human." He smiled then, as if at some inner joke. "But I watched the cleaners too. I don't know how much help I can be, but I assure you, I have affiliations with none of the immortal tribes. I want them cleaned up."

Michael looked to Baxter, who was nodding silently, his face set in stone.

"We'll need to review with our commander," Michael explained. "It's pretty much up to him what becomes of you."

"If it helps, I do have some combat training," Matthias added. "You don't live for this long as a monster without knowing something about fighting."

Michael smiled. "I know the feeling well. Still, I'm sure you can appreciate why we need to be cautious. There are only two members in this compound that are immortals."

"I understand."

"It's about trust," Baxter added. "We need to make sure we can trust you. There's a reason why there's only been two immortals allowed into our ranks." His green eyes met Michael's for a moment.

"I'll do whatever is needed," Matthias said agreeably, spreading his hands as if to prove himself unthreatening. "All I want to do is help."

Michael nodded. "Okay," he said, turning to Baxter. "Was there anything else we need to-"

Michael's words were cut short as the door crashed open. The sound took him by surprise, but the familiar scent to meet his nostrils was even more surprising. His reaction was confirmed when he turned in his chair to see Selene standing in the doorway.

He stood instantly. "Selene!" he exclaimed. "What are you…"

But again his voice retreated as he caught the expression on her face. Her brown eyes were wide, mouth agape. Her pallor had intensified until she was almost transparent.

Instantly, Michael's instincts flared. "What is it?" But her eyes were not focusing on him. Rather, they were fixed on some point over his shoulder.

As Michael turned his head, he saw. His brow knotted in confusion.

"Selene?" The word was uttered in an almost reverent whisper.

By Matthias.

"Matthias," Selene whispered in response. "What are you-" Her voice wavered as she tilted slightly toward the doorframe.

Michael feared she would collapse, and moved forward.

"Are you okay?" he asked at once. "What is it?"

"I'm okay…" Her response was distracted, her attention still focused on Matthias, the lycan now standing helplessly at his place at the table.

Michael looked from one to the other, still not comprehending the link. He had Selene's shoulders in his hands, and he tried to shift her out of the doorway.

"Come on," he said softly. "Let's go."

"No!" Selene snapped. She pushed free of Michael's gasp, sending him crashing into the chair he had occupied moments earlier. Baxter stood to help him up, but Selene did not seem to notice.

"Selene," Matthias repeated in the same low whisper. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Shut up!" she snapped.

In movements that were too fast to track, even for Michael, Selene leapt into action. All at once she had reached over the fallen Michael, taken one of the P99s from Baxter's shoulder holster, and shot Matthias twice. While the bullets made contact, Michael was still too dazed to see where they had hit the lycan.

From behind the double mirrors, Riley had called in for back up, and now a number of squad members poured into the room. Some went to the aid of Matthias, lying on the ground wounded but not dead; some moving to hold back Selene, who was still trying to attack the fallen lycan; and others moving to help Michael up.

Once standing, Michael took the position of the three men holding Selene back. Her force and strength amazed him, but he was able to move her backwards towards the doorway.

She was clearly not finished however.

"You stay the _fuck_ away from me," she was snarling in Matthias' direction. "Don't you _ever_ come near me again."

Speaking soft, calming words, Michael drew Selene backwards through the doorway, continuing until they were a safe distance from the room.


	4. Chapter 4: Selene's Past

**Chapter Four:**

**Selene's Past**

They were in the second floor courtyard, sitting side-by-side. Selene had managed to compose herself quite well, but had not yet begun to speak. Michael was not about to push her.

The sudden burst of rage which began in the interview room lasted for the time it took for the two to reach the end of the hallway. By the time they had reached the second floor, she had commenced sobbing. He had consoled her, using quiet, calming tones, still without asking at all what had caused her outburst.

Now she sat upright. Her fingers were curled under her palms, almost resembling claws. They rested on her thighs, unmoving. The rest of her body was just as still, save for her head and shoulders; though not turning, each breath seemed to gently rock her back and forth.

In the silence, Michael could reflect on the happenings of minutes ago, replaying in his mind the fragmented pieces. As disjointed as the scenes were, and as unexpected as Selene's outburst was, Michael could only guess at what the cause of her distress could have been.

It was clear that Matthias and Selene had known each other previously. The most plausible case was that she, as a death dealer, had been in a battle with Matthias somewhere in history. While this was easily a possible scenario, Michael suspected that there must have been something deeper, some form of hurt inflicted for Selene to have reacted so harshly.

A deep, trembling breath sounded from beside him, and Michael returned his attention to the present.

"I'm sorry," Selene said softly. Her voice was its usual tone, all traces of emotion barred.

Michael frowned. "For what?"

Her brown eyes turned to him. "For acting that way; for interrupting; for shooting Matthias."

He gave a half shrug, wanting to subtract some of the seriousness, add a little light to the conversation, even if the situation did not warrant it. "I can only imagine that he had it coming."

One corner of Selene's mouth tilted upward, and Michael felt himself beginning to ease a little. If she was smiling, however little, the situation was salvageable.

"You knew him before." He did not pose it as a question. She had announced him by name without introduction, but the look of horrified recognition was what Michael really wanted to query.

Selene nodded. "A lifetime ago," she said in a soft voice. Her eyes dropped from his face, looking instead at the yard just beyond his shoulder. "He was-" She stopped, paused for a moment. "He is still, I guess, my brother-in-law."

Some deep part of his mind realised that this was only the second time she had spoken of her family. He stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.

"My sister Celeste's husband and the father of my-" She took a deep breath, and he knew what was coming. "My nieces," she finished evenly. "He left before they died."

Michael's frown returned. "He left?"

She nodded, closed her eyes, looked to her hands, which were slowly unfolding. "One morning when we woke up, he was gone. It was like he just vanished."

Now Michael nodded, understanding how it would have been a shock not just for Selene, but also for Matthias. He imagined that the chance of one family being touched by the curse of immortality by two separate occurrences was very rare.

"It makes sense now why we never saw him again." Her eyes appeared to lose focus, clearly lost in memories.

He nodded. "After six hundred years, I don't suppose you ever expected to see him again. Especially not like this."

Selene seemed to be staring through Michael rather than at him. While he felt there may be more to the story, he felt insensitive to pry after such an outburst.

"No," she said in a low voice, shaking her head and lowering her eyes to her hands. "Not like this." The latter was said in a whisper.

Michael rubbed Selene's back as they sat in silence. He wanted her to know, more through actions than words, that he was open to however much she cared to share with him. He would listen to whatever she told him. He would support her.

She must have known already, for no sooner had his hand completed its first stroke, she began to speak again.

"It destroyed us when he left," she began. "It was hard for my parents, but for Celeste and the girls it was unbearable." She looked at him, her eyes shimmering with tears. "How do you explain to a five year-old that their daddy won't be coming back? How can you take away your sister's hurt when she suddenly loses the love of her life?"

As tears broke free from her eyes, Michael's hand ceased rubbing and moved to draw her closer, squeezing her arm for comfort as she wept.

"There were no words," she continued. "My parents picked up most of the pieces. I was…" She stopped there, taking a soft breath in the pause. "I was useless."

"I'm sure you helped all you could," Michael affirmed, the hand on her arm now stroking softly. "With things like that, sometimes all that's needed is time."

At that, Selene gave a short laugh. "Time?" she asked in a voice that was at the same time tearful and incredulous. "I've had six hundred years to deal with this, and to this day I still…"

"You still what?"

"I hate myself for it." She looked down as she said this, the shame in her voice surprising Michael.

"Selene, you weren't to blame for Matthias walking out on his family."

Selene closed her eyes, again rocking gently with each breath.

"They were his responsibility. Celeste was his wife. He was a father. You shouldn't feel guilty for his selfishness."

Again, she gave a soft laugh. "Shouldn't I?" she asked softly. "I just keep thinking that if he hadn't left, if he had been there that night Viktor attacked, then just maybe they would have lived. None of this ever would have happened, if only-"

"But you don't know that," Michael interrupted, his slightly stronger tone returning her attention to his face. "You did the best you could with the situation you were in. Never, ever blame yourself for the death of your family Selene."

She gazed into his eyes for a long time. He tried to read what hid there unsaid. Six hundred years worth of guilt, and for what: because that bastard lycan had abandoned his family. It wasn't fair. And what made matters worse was that because of her guilt and pain, Selene had been recruited into an army of undead warriors. She had since then been betrayed by those she trusted, used for selfish gain by an unworthy ruler in Viktor.

And now, the stress of lifetimes was harming herself and potentially their unborn baby.

It took a lot of control on Michael's part not to storm down to the holding cells and rip Matthias apart.

"Michael," Selene said softly. He returned his mind from the dark places.

"Yes, baby," he responded, sweeping her cheek with the back of his hand.

He sensed her pulse rate climbing, saw anxiety in her eyes, saw the slight tremble of her precious lips before she continued.

"I have to tell you." Again she stopped. He felt her anxiety level rising, her heart pounding. "I-" She stopped, her eyes fluttering as she slumped against him. "I think I need to rest."

Knowing full well that that was not what she had intended to say, but even more aware that her statement was completely true, he stood up, scooping her pregnant yet surprisingly light frame into his arms.

"I think that's a good idea," he replied. Their bedroom was a short walk from the upstairs courtyard, and he soon had her lying down on their queen size bed, rearranging pillows to ensure her comfort.

Selene smiled as she watched him fuss over her. "You don't need to do all of this, you know."

Michael smiled in response, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You're in the last trimester of your pregnancy," he said, his tone reasoning. "You should have as much rest and be made as comfortable as possible." He placed his hand on her stomach.

"I don't think lifting a pillow is going to hurt me." Without removing her eyes from his, she repositioned his hand to a spot lower. There, almost an instant later, Michael felt the baby kicking.

"Selene, let me take care of you," he said softly, stroking the hand that held his against her stomach with his thumb. "You're always the strong and certain one. Right now, I know what is best for you. And I want to be here doing all of this."

"I really do not deserve you," she whispered.

Michael leaned forward, kissing her forehead gently. "I think it's me who doesn't deserve you," he said with a smile. "In one I've got a trainer, a bodyguard, a lover, and you're carrying my baby. What could make you more perfect?"

"If you only knew."

He hid his concern, her need for rest more pressing than the questions in his mind. "Get some rest," he said softly, placing another kiss, this one to her lips. "I'm going down to see how the lycan is fairing." He smiled reassuringly as a look of alarm flashed through her eyes. "Don't worry. I'll be the hospitable one."

After one last kiss, Michael stood from the bed and turned to leave.

"Michael?" she called, stopping him mid stride. When he turned to face her, she suddenly seemed so helpless, so fragile. His centuries-old warrior seemed more like a frightened child.

"Will you stay with me?" she asked in a meek voice.

Her request only piqued his concern. He knew there was a lot on her mind, he wished he could hear what she seemed to be hiding from him; but if she wanted or needed him to be present, he was only too happy to oblige.

He crawled into bed beside her. No sooner had he gained his position was Selene against him, her head rested on his shoulder, her arm wrapped around his waist.

Michael loved Selene, had adored her from the very first moment they met, and he had sufficient evidence to prove that she felt the same. She was often closed with her thoughts, and until the pregnancy, had been closed with her emotions as well. Since their first day together, he had almost watched the walls of anti-trust crumble to allow him access. She showed him she loved him in small ways, her fierce independence another barrier against their relationship, but he knew that she loved him.

This movement on her part might have appeared small, but in context, it was like a cry for help. Right now, she really did need him.

And then, to add to his already concerned mind, and almost as if to confirm his thoughts, her soft voice spoke.

"I love you, Michael Corvin. No matter what happens, I'll never stop loving you."


	5. Chapter 5: Midday Tryst

**Chapter Five:**

**Midday Tryst**

The compound was massive, but when trying to avoid someone, it seemed much smaller.

For Selene, the situation was becoming unbearable. The entire top level of the mansion required a security pass clearance. There, she was free to wander the halls, enjoy the courtyard. The only people she would encounter would be Riley and the leader of the security team, the only two besides she and Michael who had access to the top floor.

But she easily became restless. Too soon, their bedroom became suffocating, the additional top floor rooms and courtyard boring. The ground floor was in some ways worse than the second. The security base took up most of the room, and at Michael's command the team were no longer allowed to provide Selene with updates on the compound.

And then there was below ground. Every time her feet carried her there, she found she could go no further than the last step. It was not her pregnancy restrictions that had her frozen; it was because beyond that step she knew that Matthias could be almost anywhere.

After Riley's approval, Matthias had been accepted on six months probation. He had limited access to the facilities; his security pass only allowing him access to the general gymnasium, briefing rooms, squad locker rooms and sleeping quarters. For every other area, he required someone to accompany him. And of course, security cameras captured every move.

That didn't make Selene feel any more secure than she would have if he were tethered to her ankle. Seven months pregnant, she regularly needed to make the trip to the clinic for routine ultrasounds and blood testing. She had to pass some of the sleeping quarters, the briefing rooms and squad rooms before reaching the medical unit.

If Matthias were in the gym or located on any other floor, she was safe.

If not…

Swiping her security pass, she tried not to think about what would happen in that eventuality. She was unarmed, but that did not mean she could not attack him. No matter how often she tried to assure herself she could handle facing him, dealing with a hypothetical meeting was different to seeing him face to face. If she saw him, she could not guarantee a civil response.

The first rooms were the open squad locker rooms, including the locked weapons stores. She muttered greetings with a half smile to the squad members she encountered there before moving on.

No Matthias.

The bulletproof windows of the briefing rooms passed by on each side. Both were empty.

Her anxiety level rose as she reached the upper level sleeping quarters, hearing the soft hum of voices from behind both open and closed doors. People within the rooms called out greetings, which she returned.

Half way...

There were still six quarters before the main boardroom.

So far, so good.

Her anxiety started to dissipate. She felt her heartbeat settle to near normal speeds.

She sighed with relief as she reached the last lot of quarters. The hum of chatter was not present here.

It appeared she had made it through safe.

"Selene?"

Her heart stopped in that instant, only to resume beating at twice its regular speed.

It was true what they were saying about Matthias' scent: it was different, somehow more human than lycan.

She stiffened, turning in the direction of the voice. Matthias sat in the last room on her right, just before the boardroom. He sat on one of the top bunks, hands on his knees, legs dangling over the edge of the bed.

And he was completely alone.

He jumped down from the bunk, moving slowly. It was as if he was approaching a timid rabbit rather than a vampire.

"Please," he said softly, in a voice she remembered all too well. "I just want to talk." He was standing at the door, gesturing for her to come in.

Her legs froze, her mind froze. Even her lips, parted to allow oxygen into her startled lungs, felt numb. There were no thoughts, no words that she could say. All that she could do was stand there staring at him, taking in the face and body that had haunted her.

"Please." He repeated, beckoning to her with his other hand.

The word, the voice, the body... It was too familiar. A feeling of safety washed over her such that she hadn't felt in centuries, not even with Michael. The feeling that she had fallen for, before everything had fallen apart.

Her legs were the first to thaw, carrying her through the doorway into the room. It was only the second time she had been inside one of these rooms. The first time was the night she had arrived at the compound with Michael. They had spent the night in the same room, squeezed into the same lower bunk...

The door closed behind her, and the rest of her body thawed, screaming at her to turn back.

"No," she said, turning to face him. "No, this is wrong. I can't talk to you." Selene moved back to the door, only to find Matthias in her way. She reached for the handle.

"Selene," he said softly, taking her wrist in his grip. "I only want to talk."

"No!" she cried out, attempting to pull free of his grip. "There's nothing to say."

"I have something to say." He grabbed her second wrist in his free hand, holding her tightly but without force. His face was reasonable, his tone still soft. "Please let me talk to you. I only need a moment."

He was slightly taller than Michael, but not warmer. The deep ice blue of his eyes was like an arctic ocean that threatened to drown her. They always had been.

Without giving her assent, she was being moved slowly back into the room. He led her backwards to the second set of bunks, where he helped lower her into a sitting position. The entire time, her eyes were locked with his. She couldn't find the strength to look away.

Matthias smiled, somewhat awkwardly, as he looked at her. "You haven't changed," he whispered.

Selene did not return the smile. "Neither have you." She hated that her voice trembled, hated the pure, unhidden emotion that was present.

His smile seemed to ease. He reached a hand and stroked it through her hair. "You're still beautiful." When she did not respond, he continued, dropping his eyes from hers. He leant forward, gazing at the floor as he grasped his hands in front of him. "I never thought I'd see any of you again. Especially y-"

She interrupted his words. "Don't say it," she said, shocked by how firm her voice was.

He turned to face her. "When I returned to the house, and found the graves..." He trailed off. "Everyone but you was dead. All sorts of things went through my mind, terrible things. But I never would have thought that you would be..." He shook his head before placing it in his hands. "I'm so sorry."

Selene was uncertain how to respond. She couldn't see his eyes right now, but she could feel enough of his emotion to know that it was genuine. "When were you turned?"

"1437," he said through his hands. "A year after I left; eight months after I came back to find all of you gone."

His words were bringing back memories, images as clear as the scenes were that night when her family were brutally murdered. She saw bodies, so much blood. The sorrow returned to her, along with the helplessness, the despair, the hatred she felt for her brother-in-law for leaving.

Now looking at him through tearful eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "You left us," she said slowly. "And two months later they were gone."

Hearing the change in her voice, he turned to face her. "Selene, I had to leave." His face was sincere, apologetic, caring. "If I had stayed, it would have hurt everyone so much more."

Incredulous. It was the only word. She gazed at him open-mouthed, momentarily too stunned to find words.

"Hurt us more?" she sobbed. "Celeste retreated to her bed for weeks and refused to see anyone. The twins-" her heart clenched at the memory, and she took a breath before continuing. "They didn't understand," she finished in a whisper. "All they wanted was their daddy back."

Matthias was calm, though lines of hurt showed around his eyes. "And you?" he whispered.

At first, Selene couldn't answer. All she could do was sob. This was the subject of her nightmares, the pain that she carried every day.

Her reaction concerned him. She felt the warmth of his hand on her shoulder. She turned away. She couldn't look at him. The hurt was too strong, too severe. It was deep within her, within her womb where her unborn child grew, unaware of the pain that surrounded it.

"Selene?" his soft voice enquired.

Slowly beginning to compose herself, Selene took a few deep breaths. When her eyes finally cleared, and she trusted that her sobs had settled enough for her to speak, she told him what she had wanted to tell someone for six centuries.

"I had a miscarriage." She turned to face him now, allowing her face to surface the anger that was hidden below the hurt. "I couldn't tell anyone. Nobody knew I was no longer a virgin. How could I tell them?"

His hand on her shoulder, suddenly now so insignificant, fell to the bed. His face crumpled and now it was he who could not look her in the eye.

"I am so sorry," he said in a low voice. "I had no idea."

"No idea about what?" she snapped, feeling the anger now completely overriding the pain. "That I was pregnant? You knew. Don't you remember; I told you the night before you walked out on all of us for the last time."

He winced. "You know why I had to do that, Selene. It was better for both of us"

"I was alone, Matthias. I was young and scared, and very, very alone. I thought I was dying, and I didn't care. All I cared about was that you were gone." Now, her voice broke. "It hurt."

She commenced sobbing again, and before she knew it she was in his arms, pressed against his warm chest. His hands were rubbing her back, his soft voice whispering soothing words in her ear.

"I betrayed my only sister," she sobbed. "It was all my fault."

"No it wasn't," he whispered. Pulling her from his chest, he claimed her chin in his palm, forcing her to look at him. "Selene, I was the one who made the choice. The betrayal was all mine."

"I was weak," she sobbed. "I should have resisted."

"It was not your fault for falling in love. Listen to me!" He pressed her to his chest again, once more stroking her back. "You did nothing wrong, understand? I was the one who left." He sighed, his grip tightening. "I never should have left you."

There was silence in the room then, broken occasionally by Selene's sobs. Matthias continued to calm her, rocking gently. His warm hands on her back; his warm lips at her temple; his warm lips at her ear…

Moving now. Her cheek, seeking her lips.

So much more came flooding back as they kissed. The first time and all the times between.

The joy of her first love.

The need to feel the full extent of his passion...

Her hands were under his shirt, smothering his chest by the time she realised that what they were doing was shades beyond wrong. She cried out as she broke free of his kiss, sliding to the edge of the bunk, as far as she could go, breathless.

"Selene," he begged between pants.

She shook her head, hating herself for her weakness yet again. "We can't," she said. She got to her feet.

The last words she said as she strode past him towards the door were "I'm sorry."


	6. Chapter 6: Falsification

**Chapter Six:**

**Falsification**

The gym was deserted, silent, perfect for escaping the tension building in the rest of the mansion. Selene may have promised Michael to stay away from her most favourite room, but that was before Matthias, before her very past returned from the grave to haunt her. Before the kiss…

She felt exhausted, the lack of sleep combined now with the stress of meeting her former brother-in-law becoming too much to bare. She had not told Michael the full truth of her history with Matthias, which meant now she lived in a constant state of fear that it would be Matthias who would tell all. These inconveniences were a trouble without being added to the fact that she was seven months pregnant.

Despite her outward anger, Selene could still not decide how she truly felt towards Matthias. The anger was obvious, but having held him in her heart for centuries as a cherished member of her past was not easy to ignore. When he kissed her, feelings came flooding back. She did not love him, but hating him now when he stood so close was easier said than done.

She chose one of the Walther P99s from the gymnasium weapons store, checking first that it was loaded.

The same gun that she had used on Matthias.

Now, suddenly, she found that she could not hold the weapon. With a hand that shook slightly, she returned the weapon to its hold and chose one of the Berettas.

Shooting Matthias had accomplished nothing. If anything, it gave another link to her past that she did not need. Everything reminded her of him. She hated herself for it. She hated herself for even thinking of him.

But she had kissed him…

Holding the cherished weapon close, Selene moved to the shooting gallery. Letting off a few rounds had always been one of her favourite ways to relax as a Death Dealer. Though shooting was officially one of her banned activities during pregnancy, now more than ever she needed to relax, she needed her old sanctuary, at least until the situation around her eased.

The double doors to the gym opened, and the scent that met her nostrils scent her pulse racing. She didn't need to hear that honey sweet voice to know that it was Matthias, no doubt in the gym for training.

Even as his footsteps sounded behind her, she paid no attention, instead continuing through to the shooting gallery. Matthias' security clearance did not allow him access to the caged off area. All he could do was stand behind her.

But those two metres were close enough for her to feel his heat, his need. She closed her eyes before releasing the first round of bullets into the targets at the end of the range.

"Selene," his voice sounded from behind her, firmer than it had been the previous night.

Ignoring him, she shoved another round into the chamber and fired it once more. He was ruining her aim, making her miss the target each time. The sound of bullets ricocheting from the metal hangers and the ceiling, digging into the cement floor, met her ears.

"Selene, we need to talk about last night."

Taking a deep breath, she reloaded her weapon. Taking her regular stance, she took extra time to aim for the target. Before squeezing the trigger, she answered his pleas.

"There's nothing to talk about." Her words were blunt, the shot that followed serving as a subject closer.

She had hit the centre of the target, the heart of her enemy. Trying to further relax into her stance, she aimed again.

"Don't try to pretend there's nothing between us," Matthias snapped.

Her finger was too heavily placed on the trigger, and the gun erupted as she spun to face him, shooting a hole in the wall.

"There's nothing between us," she snapped in response. "I feel nothing for you."

His eyes narrowed, his mouth was a thin line. "You kissed me back, Selene. Don't try and deny it."

"What happened was caused by memories and an overdose of emotion." She turned from him again, readying her shooting stance once more.

"I know you have feelings for me," he said in a low voice. "But you're just scared to admit it. Scared to hurt _him_."

"Leave Michael out of this," she said her voice a warning snarl. "I love him with all of my heart. I would do anything for him."

"Including kiss another man?"

Selene lowered her weapon. It wasn't the words that had stopped her, but something else.

Pain.

"You can't be so in love with a man when you're kissing someone else," he continued, unaware of her silence. "Does he even know that you were with me long before he even existed?"

Contraction, it was definitely a contraction. Still clutching her gun in one hand, the other was on her stomach.

"Does he know that you betrayed your sister, lied to your entire family, and were pregnant with my child?"

Matthias was completely unaware of her situation.

"Does he know that you pined for me long after I left?"

Another contraction. This one, she was unable to hide. She dropped the gun, crying out as both hands braced her stomach. Still she would not turn to face him. He was not who she needed right now.

"Go and find Michael," she said her voice high with fear. It was too soon, the baby was over a month too soon.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice finally registering some form of concern.

For those moments all she could think of was Michael. She had failed him, failed her most important mission. She was to carry their child safely through the pregnancy, and she could not do it.

She knew in the back of her mind that she needed to move, needed to find help. She did not need Matthias. She needed someone she could trust, someone who could help her.

"Is it the baby?" His voice was rushed, panicked. "Are you in labour?"

She hid a sob at the onset of another contraction. "Get Michael," she cried. "Go and find him."

"Shit, Selene. There's no time for me to go running around while you're here alone. You need medical help!" He seemed to briefly assess the situation. "Give me your access card. I'll come and carry you."

"No!" she snapped. She could not muffle her next cry, and cursed as it ended. "Find someone! Quickly!"

"There may not be time," he said, hurried. "Let me in. I'll have you at the clinic in a minute."

She was stuck. She did not want him anywhere near her, did not want him touching her. Yet the memory of his touch, the memory of his warm skin soothing her body at the harshest of times…

"Please," she cried. "Find someone."

"I'm not going to leave you here. Give me your pass!" It was no longer a request, but a command.

Biting her lip against another contraction, she turned to face him. She slipped her security pass from the pocket of her shirt and handed it to him through the wire mesh. As his word had dictated, he used the pass to enter the cage, reaching her side in seconds.

"Just breathe," he murmured. "Deep breaths. It's probably a false alarm. Don't worry."

She nodded, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Go and find Michael," she whispered between breaths. Her words were cut by a cry.

Matthias scooped her into his arms, exiting the gym at immortal speed.

"I'll have him found," he assured her as he ran. "But firstly, you need to get to the clinic."

* * *

Michael had started running before the phone hit the floor. He received urgent word that Selene had gone into premature labour. He cursed himself for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He should have been watching her.

Only a small part of him caught the fact that she had been found in the compound's gymnasium, brought to the clinic by the mysterious lycan from his love's past.

At that stage, no part of him further examined the fact that Selene's past brother-in-law had been present when she had gone into labour.

At that moment, the only thing that mattered to Michael was the health and wellbeing of Selene and their unborn baby.

It was early, too early for Selene to be giving birth. Thinking back over his medical studies, Michael tried to determine whether their child would survive at this early stage. It would be a close call.

Closing in on the clinic, he did not want Selene to see him upset. He needed to be strong, needed to remain strong for her.

The first person he saw in the clinic was Matthias. The lycan stood to greet him as Michael entered through the security doors.

"Michael," he said by way of greeting, his voice containing that trace of apology that medical residents were taught to use when dealing with bereaving family members. "I'm so sorry. I brought her here and called you straight away. She-"

Michael did not let him finish. "Where is she?" he demanded in a quivering voice. "Where's Selene?"

Matthias' hands gripped Michael's shoulders, and he found himself looking eye-to-eye with the lycan.

"Calm down," Matthias said, his voice firm. "She's in with the doctor now. It looks like she's in labour. Michael, she-"

Michael did not wait to hear the end of the sentence. He had worked out where Selene was. He pushed himself free of the lycan's grip and headed through to the examining rooms, Matthias' voice calling after him.

The first two were empty, and he hastened his journey to the third room. A nurse exited moments before he entered, no sounds of commotion greeted him as he reached the doorway.

There was no blood, no death, no sense of impending doom.

Just the subtle beats sounding from the foetal monitor. At the foot of the bed, Dr. James Coran was examining Selene. He looked up as Michael entered, and smiled.

"It was a false alarm," he said in a cheerful voice, completely betraying the mood of the room. "A few minor contractions, only slight dilation. They've settled now, so she should be fine."

Heaving a short sigh of relief, Michael looked at Selene. Hair was stuck to her tear-stained cheeks. Her eyes were rimmed red. He could barely recognise her as the woman he loved. Except for those soulful, endless brown eyes. When they looked up at him, his heart broke.

"Michael," she whimpered. A hand that rested on her stomach reached out for him, kicking him into motion as he took her hand in his. He planted a kiss on it softly.

"Oh, honey," he said. His voice defied the strength he tried to display. "Are you okay?" He kissed her forehead, running his free hand down her face.

She shook her head, her lips trembling as she tried to stave off her tears. "I'm sorry, Michael," she cried. "I'm so sorry. It's all my fault."

He shushed her, stroking her cheek, removing damp strands of hair from her face. "It's not your fault, honey. Everything's okay. It's going to be fine."

Again she shook her head. "It's my fault. It's happened. It's happened before. I can't…" Her voice broke at that point, and she laid her head against his hand, closing her eyes.

He wanted to kiss the tears from her cheeks, gather her in his arms, and hold her until the pain passed. As it was, he noted she was already hooked up to an IV, and was still being examined by the doctor. He could do little more than hold her hand.

"You're going to be fine," he whispered against her cool skin before placing a kiss to her forehead. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Coran looked up at that point, his green eyes warm. "Everything looks fine," he repeated, removing his gloves. "I can assure you that the baby won't be going anywhere just now."

Michael pressed a firm kiss to Selene's hand, still tightly gripping his own.

"It's okay?" Selene asked. "The baby's okay?"

The doctor gave another warm smile, moving to the bedside. "Perfect, just as it should be."

Now relief filled Selene's face and she once more closed her eyes, resting her head on Michael's hand as she sobbed silently.

Michael shushed her as he stroked his hand through her hair.

The doctor put a reassuring hand on Selene's knee before moving to leave the room.

"I want Selene to remain in here overnight for observation," Coran said. "Just for precaution." This was his form of farewell, and with that said he walked away.

Michael heaved a sigh of relief before turning his attention to the most important task.

"Selene," he said softly. "Look at me."

Slowly, her face rose. Slowly, her eyes met his. Red-rimmed and watery, yet he could not mistake those chocolate pools.

He smiled. "Everything's fine. You're okay."

"I was scared, Michael," she said softly. "I didn't want to lose our baby."

He kissed her forehead again. "You're not going to lose the baby, Selene. Why would you think that?"

A glimmer of something flickered across Selene's eyes. Fear. Guilt. Michael could not put a word to it. It appeared only for an instant, but he was certain he had caught that slight glimmer.

"Get some rest," he said, stroking his hand across her forehead. "I'll stay with you."

Her eyes seemed to search his in silence for a moment. She did not seem to find whatever it was she was looking for.

"I love you," she whispered.

And with that, her eyes closed.

Leaving Michael with more questions than he knew what to do with.

And presumably one individual who would be able to answer them.


	7. Chapter 7: Truth Searching

**Chapter Seven:**

**Truth Searching**

It was a while before Michael finally managed to leave Selene. Even after she had drifted off to a light sleep, her hold on his hand had been strong enough to keep him beside her. It gave him a chance to watch her sleep, to think on recent events, and perhaps most dangerously, to develop dark scenarios in his head.

Selene whimpered in her sleep. This, Michael had come to accept as normal, at least during her pregnancy. He understood to an extent. She had lost too much in her life, suffered so much hurt; it was only natural that she was afraid that something would happen to their baby as well.

_It's happened before._

Those words returned to his mind like an echo, a broken record that repeated the line over and over. _It's happened before_. What had happened before? Selene never spoke of having children; she had never even spoken of having lovers in the past. He knew little of her life in the coven, except that it was dedicated to destroying lycans. He knew even less about her life before the coven.

Had she suffered the loss of her own child? A miscarriage or murder?

Of course she may have been referring to the loss in general. She had lost her parents, her sister and her nieces. And, as it turned out, her brother-in-law had disappeared.

Now Matthias was back. It could have been coincidental that the return of Selene's brother in law occurred at the same time that her stress levels hit their highest point. Michael doubted it.

She had missed her weekly appointment yesterday. This Michael only found out from Coran himself. When she hadn't showed up and could not be located, Coran had contacted Michael. It was unlike Selene to not show up for her appointments.

But she did not show up. It was an hour past the appointment when Michael was informed. He had been in the gym at the time, slowly improving his aim on the firing range. The phone system was connected to every room in the compound. When it rang, Michael practically pounced on it, always prepared.

Selene had not shown up, and could not be located. Michael went into panic mode instantly. He pictured her in labour, unable to get to a phone, crying out for help that would never come. He had hurried to their room on the top floor, thrown open the door, and heaved an enormous sigh of relief when he found her upon the bed.

She appeared fine, sitting propped up by pillows. The only thing that appeared odd to Michael was her eyes. Rather than the chocolate orbs he was used to, Michael was greeted by a pair of crystal blue eyes, almost silver in their shine.

He crossed to the bed slowly. Something in her posture, in her face, in the very vibe that she radiated suggested she was like an animal, poised ready to pounce.

Michael sat on the end of the bed, watching her warily. "You missed your appointment," he said softly. "Coran was worried. He couldn't find you."

She blinked at him, once, twice, but said nothing.

"Is everything okay?" he asked hesitantly.

There were almost visible sparks in the air between then. He saw evidence in her face that she had been crying, but whatever had upset her she was now settled.

No, settled was the wrong word.

Coiled was more accurate. Coiled and waiting to spring.

And she was silent. For what felt like an eternity, all they did was stare at each other.

Then it broke.

"I love you, Michael," she whispered. He was sure if it weren't for his super-human hearing, he would not have caught the words. They were so soft, yet there was fierceness to them, a certainty. They could not have been clearer even if she had shouted them at him.

He reached out toward her, stroking her ankle, which was the closest part he could reach.

"I love you too," he replied, mimicking her softness. "And I'm worried about you."

Selene's face softened, her eyes slowly returning to brown. "I'm sorry I missed my appointment."

"It's okay." He smiled. "As long as you're okay. Both of you."

Michael moved closer, sitting beside her on the bed. Selene's eyes held his the entire time, never looking away. When he had pressed his hand to her stomach, hers covered it in an instant.

"We're okay," she whispered in response, a shadow of a smile playing on her lips.

It was a feeble response to an issue that Michael feared was becoming more and more serious by the day. Her sleepless nights were getting worse. He knew that she had not slept at all following that episode, which explained why she had fallen asleep in the clinic.

One thing was certain. From Selene, he could draw no answers.

As soon as the iron grip on his hand eased, he slid away from the bedside, bound for Matthias.

When Michael found the lycan's quarters were empty, he proceeded hastily to the gymnasium.

That was where they had been when this started.

Matthias was there, not training, not practising, and not even moving. He sat on the floor, his back pressed against the metal cage that enclosed the weapons hold. He had his knees up, his arms wrapped around them, and his face hidden.

He truly looked fragile sitting there. Michael could easily have killed him, tearing him apart limb from limb. He could so easily have ripped the lycan's heart from his chest and drank his blood.

Michael felt proud of himself that he did not do this. Instead, he stood at Matthias' feet, looking down on him.

"I figured you'd come looking for me eventually," Matthias muttered, his voice smothered by his arms. "It was only a matter of time."

"If it was only a matter of time, why didn't you come to me?" Michael asked. He masked the growl that rumbled in his chest as best he could, but was sure that it sounded in his voice.

The lycan gave a slow laugh, raising his head to look Michael in the eyes. "I haven't the access to reach you. I cannot access most of this place." He indicated the wide room, referring more to the restricted areas beyond. "If I had been, I would have come looking for you."

Michael moved, walking to Matthias' side. If nothing more, it gave him time to think of the proper words to use. It gave him the seconds needed to restrain his inner beast, to prevent attacking the one that was feeling more and more like the enemy rather than a comrade.

"What has she told you?" Matthias asked. "I'm gathering it's not the whole truth."

Michael glared as he answered. "You abandoned your family. You left your wife and your children without a word of warning or as much as a goodbye letter."

Lowering his gaze, Matthias nodded. "That much is true." When he lifted his eyes to Michael's face, he seemed to be scrutinizing him. "But you think there's more to it than that."

"I know there's more to it than that. I know that Selene loved her family, but seeing you shouldn't have this great effect on her. She's hardly the same woman I fell in love with."

"And you believe that I'm the reason she's behaving like this?"

Michael smiled. "I know you're the reason she's behaving like this. What I want to know is why. She's hiding something, something big enough to keep her up at night and make her anxious all the time. And it's ever since you arrived here. She's afraid. You make her afraid, and I want to know why."

"What makes you think I know why she's scared of me?"

Michael snapped. There was something in Matthias' voice, in his eyes, that was challenging him. It seemed to mock him, and it was making Michael mad.

He had Matthias by the throat, his hybrid claws digging into the skin of the lycan's neck, its feet dangling a good metre from the floor. Matthias snarled in response, his hands darting to his throat, trying to pry the talons loose. His attempts were futile.

"Tell me what I need to know," Michael growled, emphasising each word by pounding the lycan into the cage again and again. "I love that woman up there, and if you're hurting her in any way-"

But Michael's words were interrupted. "I loved her too," Matthias choked through the hold.

Michael loosened his hold, his face freezing. "You what?"

Those crystalline pools that were the lycan's eyes rose to meet Michael's. "I loved her. I fell in love with her long before you ever met her; even long before you were born."

The lycan fell to the ground as Michael released his grip completely. Sounds of coughing and spluttering filled the gym.

Michael took two steps back from Matthias. "You loved her," he fought for the right words. "As a sister?"

Matthias laughed through his spluttering. He was rubbing his throat, his eyes narrowed as he looked up at his attacker. "No, not like a sister." His voice now emerged as a rasping growl, suddenly making him more threatening. "I loved her like a lover."

Shock split Michael's mind. Selene and Matthias were lovers? He couldn't believe it. And yet, it made sense. It seemed to answer so many questions…

His anger dissipated.

"When?" he stammered, still backing away from Matthias. "Before you were married?"

Again that sinister laugh, that almost evil grin. "After I was married. Even after the twins were born."

They had slept together, slept together behind Celeste's back. Obviously, the family never knew.

"And that was why you left." Michael didn't pose it as a question. It already made sense. The guilt that Selene felt, the shock of finding Matthias alive after so long, the hatred that came flooding back when she saw his face. It was all too much for her to bear.

"That was one of the reasons."

Frowning, still trying to take in the rest of the information, Michael asked, "What else?"

Matthias was silent, a grin still playing on his lips. He held the moment in silence that felt almost like eternity. Then finally he spoke.

"Selene fell pregnant with my child." He said the words so casually. A twinkle in his eyes hinted that he was satisfied that he was dropping shrapnel into Michael's festering wound.

Michael's back met a wall, and he slumped down it. "Selene was pregnant?" His words were a whisper, almost silent. He was too lost in disbelief to make sense of them. She had been pregnant before?

Matthias climbed his way up the metal cage into a standing position, still holding his neck. "I did her a favour in leaving," he gasped. The tide had turned, for even though he was hunched over slightly, Matthias towered over Michael, who was almost cowered on the floor. "You didn't know her father. He would have sent her to a convent, assuming he didn't kill her."

Michael was still grasping the words, grasping the meaning of all of this._ 'It's happened before'_. It made sense. She was pregnant now, having dreams about the past, of being pregnant before.

"He wouldn't even allow his youngest daughter to marry before his eldest," Matthias continued, Michael now only half listening to the story. "It was Selene I loved even before we started sleeping together. But their father wanted Celeste married off first." He sighed.

Matthias offered a hand to the dazed Michael. When they stood head to head, Matthias spoke again.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry that I hurt Selene. I didn't mean for her to get hurt in any way. What I did was selfish, but it was what I thought was best for everyone."

It happened in a flash.

One moment, Michael was staring off in the distance, his mind ringing with all that he had heard. His position changed when Matthias helped him up, but still he gazed at nothing, lost in thought.

But when he met the lycan's eyes, a terrible urge to hurt, to kill, to protect those that he loved, overcame him. From a normal human, the punch would have swung the victim's head, maybe dazzled them for a second or two. With Michael's strength, Michael's hatred, Matthias was thrown two metres, back to the metal gate where he crashed to the floor.

"Stay away from me," Michael snarled, pointing a finger at the cur before him. "Stay away from both of us, or I swear I will fucking kill you."

He spun around, his temper flaring. He was at the double doors to the gym when Matthias words rang out behind him.

"She kissed me," he taunted, his voice ringing with unexpressed laugher. Blood poured from his nose, and he spat out a mouthful of blood before continuing. "Yesterday when she should have been with her doctor, she visited me. We talked, and she kissed me." The laughter flew from the hateful mouth once more. "I would reassess your status in her life if I were you."

Michael's grip on the door was tight enough to buckle the steel. Cracks sounded as he let go. He should have walked away, should have avoided the temptation, but he couldn't.

Towering over Matthias once more, Michael's eyes made their fade to black. His talons returned, and his teeth grew to razor points in his mouth. It was with wavering control that he kept the full transformation at bay. He kicked the lycan, causing it to cry out in pain, doubling over. Michael heard the satisfying crunch of ribs breaking and smiled.

"If you touch her, if you look at her, if you so much as think of her," Michael began, his voice eerily calm despite the growl of his beast. "I will make your death as long and torturous as possible. Leave her alone."

And with that, he stormed from the gym, leaving Matthias in his wake.


	8. Chapter 8: Anger Management

**Chapter Eight:**

**Anger Management**

Too angry, and in no physical state to be seen by any member of the compound, Michael went from the gym straight to their second floor bedroom. From there, he rang the clinic to check Selene's status.

"She's asleep at the moment," Coran advised. His voice was somehow not as cheery as it had been earlier in the clinic. "I've given her a very mild sedative. I'm also monitoring both Selene and the baby very closely."

"Is she okay?" Michael asked, balling his hands into fists as he fought the beast from his voice.

"I'm concerned about premature labour. As I said, I want her in overnight. We'll review the stats in the next couple of hours to determine how long she needs to be here."

"Thanks, Coran." Michael ran a hand through his hair. "I'll be down in an hour or so."

After hanging up the phone, Michael felt at a loss. What he needed to do was talk to Selene alone. He needed to confirm the information Matthias had provided. Though all plausible, Michael could not help thinking that Matthias may have been lying to provoke him.

What would be the point of that?

More importantly, he needed to calm down before he saw Selene. She was fragile enough without having to deal with the beastly side of her mate. He had only released the beast on her once before, and the consequences had been terrible.

Since then, he had learnt ways to control the change. As he neared the moment of transformation, he could feel the heat of his body rise. He figured that his body temperature at that moment would have been well over 110 F. In a human, it would have been cause for great alarm. For a hybrid, it simply meant a monstrous volcano was about to erupt.

Cold showers were usually the only thing that would stop a change at this late stage. Often, when Selene were around, he found her soothing voice and her cool touch to be perfect at bringing him back from his dark side. As it was, the shower was the only option.

Stripping, he entered their en-suite, and stepped instantly under the cold water spray. He growled as the first droplets met his fevered skin, feeling as though thousands of pins were attacking his back and sides. Still almost trembling with anger, Michael braced his arms against the walls of the shower, breathing deeply as the cold water began lowering his temperature. It took time, but eventually he found his free thought returning, the need to disembowel Matthias and burn his entrails dissipating.

When he stepped from the shower, he viewed his reflection in the mirror over the wash basin. His eyes were their normal shade of brown, his physique no longer built upon pure muscle. Examining his hands, he found that the talon-like claws that erupted during his rage had retreated. Instead, crescent moon shaped scars were fading on his palms, no doubt from when he had made the call to Coran.

Still maintaining a deep breathing exercise, Michael pulled on a pair of sweatpants he usually saved for training and a t-shirt. Running his hands through his hair with one last look in the mirror, he prepared himself to return to the clinic.

Prepared himself to face Selene.

* * *

Michael paused at the door to the clinic, security pass in hand, once more ensuring that his inner beast was hidden far below the surface. The conversation that would take place in that exam room was going to be emotional enough without him turning into a monster.

Selene didn't need that. Not right now.

One last breath and he proceeded through the doors to the clinic. He passed the first three rooms, proceeding to the main room at the end. It served as an all purpose room – the blood and medical supplies present surpassed any hospital Michael had ever worked at, and the gear was enough to make the room anything from an operating theatre to a birthing unit. Usually, the sight of the room impressed him, but on this day there were more pressing matters at hand.

Selene was awake, her face unreadable but her eyes radiating fear as she looked to Dr Coran, standing at her bedside. Michael instantly noted two things. The first was that the foetal monitor was still strapped to Selene's abdomen.

The second was a second blood drip that had been inserted into Selene's other arm. Now two separate IV stands fed blood into her veins. Whatever the news was, it did not look positive.

Coran did not smile as he noticed Michael at the door, but motioned him in. "Michael, I'm glad you're here," he said in a soft but serious tone. "You both need to hear this."

Selene looked to Michael briefly as he crossed to her bedside, taking his hand when he was within reach. Once again, her grip was tight.

"The baby is doing fine," Coran said with a smile. "Heart rate is perfect, there's no issue with the baby."

It was Selene who spoke next. "It's me, isn't it? I'm the problem."

"Not as such," Coran said with that same reassuring smile on his face as he tapped her leg. "The monitor has been showing more very minor contractions in the past few hours. But on top of that, your cervix has dilated a further centimetre." He took a deep breath before continuing. "There's a chance that the baby will arrive early."

In the silence that followed, Michael looked to Selene. She merely had her eyes closed, head lowered.

"In order to hold the birth off as long as possible," Coran continued. "It's imperative that Selene has full bed rest. That can either be here or in your bedroom. Chances are, wherever she decides to be, the baby will be born there."

Michael spoke up. "You think it would be better for her to remain down here?"

Coran sighed. "You're a medical man, Michael. I'm sure you'd agree that the best place for her would be somewhere where we have the facilities to look after the baby and Selene after birth. Of course, we could move equipment up to your room, if that is what Selene prefers."

Attention now directed at her, Selene's eyes opened, her head moving from Michael to Coran and then back again. "I'll do whatever is needed," she said softly. "I will stay here."

Coran nodded. "I think it's the safest choice," he said with a smile. "We have everything we need for you right here, from food-" at this, he indicated the refrigerated blood supplies "- to entertainment." Like a hospital room, the room had its own TV, which Coran indicated with a flick of the remote.

When the action gave no response from either Michael or Selene, Coran clicked the television off and excused himself from the room.

Then, it was just Michael and Selene.

She broke the silence by sighing deeply, pressing her head to the hand that held Michael's. "As long as the baby is okay," she murmured. "I can handle bed rest."

When Michael did not respond, her head lifted, her eyes bearing into his. Once more they were in silence. She was reading his face, his stance. He knew he was being distant, but he could not help it.

And all at once, she seemed to understand.

Her brown eyes, moments ago round and wide with fear, now filled with tears.

"Oh," she whispered. "You know."

Michael nodded, pulling a chair across to sit by the bedside. He kept his hand within hers, but made no move for further contact.

She swallowed before continuing. "Did Matthias-"

"I made him tell me." Michael hated the sound of his voice. It was flat, lifeless. For some reason, he could not shake the feeling of hurt. Maybe even a little betrayal. And of course, there was the combined hatred and anger he felt for Matthias. That, he knew, he had to keep at bay during this conversation.

"Oh, Michael." Her eyes shimmered, and the first of many tears trickled down her pale cheeks, shining like diamonds under the clinic's fluorescent lighting. "I'm so sorry. I should have told you."

"I don't need to hear the whole story again, Selene. I just want to confirm if what M-" the name lodged in his throat like an unwanted taste "If what _he_ said was true."

She nodded, only a slight movement of her head. "Okay."

Taking a deep breath, Michael began. "You were lovers."

"Yes."

"While he was married to your sister."

Selene closed her eyes and lowered her head. Obviously, her remorse for that fact was immense – sincere and immense. "Yes," she said in a lower voice.

"You were pregnant with his baby." Michael didn't wait for a response before he fired the question. "What happened to the child?"

Her eyes opened, shimmering brown waters flooded with tears. "I miscarried not long after he left," she explained in whisper.

For the next question, Michael was forced to take several deep breaths. Everything had been true; every word had been the absolute truth. Selene had hidden an entire past from him, had probably lied about the dreams. But whether the last betrayal was true, Michael needed to find out.

"Did you kiss him yesterday?"

She blinked. "What?" she stammered. "Michael, I don't-"

"Just answer the question," Michael growled, feeling his temperature rise again.

There was silence, an eternity of silence. If Matthias had been lying, Michael would personally rip the limbs from his body. If Matthias had been telling the truth…

The brown pools overflowed with tears. Selene met his gaze evenly as she gave another slight nod. "It's true," she whispered, again in that voice too soft for human ears.

Michael stood from the chair, the force causing it to screech against the floor. His blood was pounding in his head. His vision was red with anger. Something stronger than anger. It wasn't hatred. As mad as he was, he could not actually hate Selene.

"Michael," Selene said softly, her hand reaching for him. "Please calm down. Let me explain."

"You lied to me." Michael still could not keep the growl from his voice. "You didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth about _him_."

"I do trust you," she said, but her words did not reach his ears.

"And despite all that's happening because of him." He gestured to the monitor strapped to her stomach, to the IV blood bags connected to her arm. "You went to his room, and you kissed him."

"I didn't mean for it to happen." She was pleading with him. "Just calm down and I can explain it."

Breathing was not working. Every breath took in Selene's scent, reeking of betrayal. What he needed was to get away.

"Where are you going?" Selene asked.

Michael stopped in the doorway, one hand bracing the frame. His back was to her as he spoke.

"I can't be near you right now," he said in the calmest voice he could muster. "I can't even look at you. I need to be alone. I need to deal with this alone."

He was sure she said something after him, but the speed with which he left the room made the words an incoherent blur.


	9. Chapter 9: Angry Carousel

**Chapter Nine:**

**Angry Carousel**

Matthias was not in the gym. Despite the rage that was intruding upon his thoughts, there was some small part of Michael that was glad he did not find the lycan. Finding the lycan would almost certainly follow with killing the lycan.

But killing the lycan would solve nothing.

_Reassess your status in her life_.

Killing Matthias would make Michael happy, that he could not deny. But even with Matthias dead, there was still the issue with Selene. Her past would not die with the lycan. Her past would always be a part of her.

_Reassess._

For the first time in their relationship, Michael was beginning to wonder whether Selene would fully take him into her confidences. He thought they were making such great progress; she was sharing her thoughts and feelings about the pregnancy, letting him know what concerned her and what was making her anxious.

But it all turned out to be a lie.

Selene was a good actress. Michael could not work out exactly how good. She wanted the baby; that was one certainty. But what about her feelings toward Michael? Did she truly love him, or was the vision of love that was so well portrayed borne only of need?

There was a fine line between the two.

Michael remained in the gym, initially staring blankly at the spot where Matthias had been lying. Knowing the healing rate of immortals, he figured the lycan's ribs had already mended. No doubt he was out on one of the patrol missions.

It was the luckiest break the lycan would get. But definitely not the last _break_.

They had _kissed_. Part of his mind wanted to forget about it. It was only a kiss. Kisses happen on the spur of the moment. Selene was highly emotional; there was every chance that reminiscing heightened those emotions.

But those emotions were positive, those memories were fond memories. She would not have kissed him out of rage. There must have been passion. A passion that was reciprocated.

Still, it was _only _a kiss.

A kiss with an ex-lover that disappeared lifetimes ago. They had clearly shared so much before his disappearance.

And Selene had fallen pregnant. Michael's rage fissured at this thought. It was deceitful what they had done without their family knowing. But Michael could not imagine the pain Selene would have gone through. She would have been alone. She would have been unable to tell them the truth. A woman unwed, pregnant, alone… It made Michael's heart ache to think of her going through that.

Even so…

His mind was like a carousel: not only were the horses going around and around the same track over and over, up and down on the same poles, but the same song was playing again and again. He was getting nowhere.

What he needed was a rest. Thinking of the past few nights, he realised that Selene had not been the only one without sleep. His concern for her had kept him up at night as well. He lay in bed waiting for her cries, waiting for her to awake with a start. Even when he held her, it did not take away the ache of her dreams.

Now he knew why.

_Maybe _Matthias_ could make the dreams go away_…

No! This vicious circle was getting him nowhere.

He left the gym, using the stairwell to bypass the remaining underground levels and the first above ground level. He reached the second floor and swiped his access card to pass through.

The hallway seemed so silent; silent without Selene. As he neared the end of the hallway, standing opposite the door to their bedroom, he saw the half-open door to the nursery. Sighing, he pushed the door open and took in the sight that always brought a smile to his face.

Selene had picked the colour. Eggshell, she had said, was an ambivalent colour. While they did not know the sex of the baby, everything would remain white. Mahogany furniture was set in place; chest of drawers for the baby clothes that were yet to come, a changing table, and a cot all set up ready for the arrival. Michael had even surprised Selene with a leather rocking chair perfect for nursing mothers. She had cried when he had shown it to her, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him firmly on the lips.

'_I love you so much,' _he could hear her saying.

She had been so happy during the second trimester. The first was rocky. After her arrival at the compound, she had spent most of her time either being spent on intravenous blood to supply both her and the baby with nutrients, or vomiting up whatever feed she attempted orally. The problems ceased come the fifth month, when planning for the nursery had started.

And plan she did. Along with the eggshell paint, borders ran along the top and the bottom of the walls, picturing smiling teddy bears in various poses, along with letters of the alphabet. The carpet even matched the colouring in the bears' fur, and an almost identical bear was waiting in the baby's cot.

Michael could remember marvelling over her then. Here was a woman who was a murderer in every sense of the word, a warrior; and yet given a gift of life inside her, and she was completely transformed. The transformation happened so easily, without question; one day she was the remains of a death dealer, the next a doting mother-to-be.

"Where did it all go wrong?" Michael asked, his question directed at the hundred-odd teddy bears that were smiling out at him.

So much more tired for the memory, Michael went across the hallway to their bedroom. This, like everywhere else in the compound, was so empty with out Selene. It was serving as a mirror for his life at present. Empty. He still loved her, he couldn't stop himself. But he also couldn't stop questioning her motives either.

Michael ran a hand around his neck, making an approximation at his body temperature. He was no longer flaring, no longer ready to transform into a monster at any second. He felt a lot calmer.

And a lot sleepier. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he plunged headfirst into a field of dreams; dreams that he wished he would never have seen…

* * *

_Selene was missing from the bed. The spread had not been touched. _

_She had not been to bed at all._

_Sobs sounded from the bathroom._

_In a flash he was out of bed and standing at the bathroom door._

_Empty._

_The sobs had ceased._

_The reflection in the mirror was transforming; human to hybrid, hybrid to human._

_His eyes were black._

Matthias.

'_I love you.' Selene's whisper._

_He turned around; the room was empty._

_Standing now at the door to the bedroom._

_The nursery door was closed; rimmed in red from within._

_Pushing it open; the tang of sweet blood assaulted him._

_Twin girls, barely six years old, butchered like animals. Lay in pieces at his feet._

_Blood stained the carpet. Blood stained the walls._

_Blood dripped from his hands._

'_Stay with me,' Selene's whisper once more._

_He stood in the hallway, facing his closed bedroom door. Murmurs from within._

_He opened the door._

_Bare bodies in the moonlight, on a bed of damp sheets. He knows she must leave. She knows she cannot bare it._

_Writhing, gasping._

_Selene below._

'_Reassess your status,' Matthias grins, his form shifts to lycan. Sinister laughter falls from his lips._

_Blood drips from his fangs._

_Michael stays in the doorway, cannot move. Selene beckons to him with her eyes. Her hands reach for him._

_Matthias shifts to human form, still pouring evil laughter._

_Selene's bare breast is smeared with blood. The beast returns._

'_I can't,' Selene's words, but her lips do not move, 'I love Michael.'_

_The beast slaps Selene leaving red trenches of blood down her precious face. Still her eyes locked with Michael's; still he stands in the doorway._

'_No matter what happens, I'll always love you.'_

_The beast descends; jaws agape, fangs glistening, reaching for her neck._

'_No!' Michael screams; he is unable to move. He cannot let this happen. Too much loss, too much pain. He cannot lose Selene._

_Blood…_

'_No!'_


	10. Chapter 10: Chaotic Distractions

**Chapter Ten:**

**Chaotic Distractions**

The buzzing woke Michael with a start, cutting the dream short. He pressed his fingers deep into his eyes, trying to erase the mental pictures that were even now clinging to his mind.

As he gained full consciousness, he realised that the buzzing was the telephone on the bedside. Groaning, he rolled over and picked up the receiver. He took his time bringing it to his mouth, and then croaked a gruff "Corvin" once the receiver was in place.

"It's Riley," came the response. "We've got some problems down in the holding cells. We need your help."

Michael gritted his teeth as he glared at the wall. "Get back up from elsewhere," he groaned. "I'm in no state to deal with out of control immortals."

"We need you, Michael!" That Riley would use a first name was an indication that whatever was happening was serious. "They've taken down two of the guards already. I've sent for back up, but with two units on the road, there's no-one else. I've got the security team on their way, along with Delta squad. We need all the help we can get."

Michael sighed. It was an emergency. "Give me five minutes." And with that, he threw the receiver back to its base.

He lay on his back for another moment, reflecting on his dream and all the thoughts that preceded it. Knowing a little of psychology, he figured that what was in the dream was only a reflection of all of his thoughts and fears combined.

He tried not to think into it too much. There were more important things to deal with.

And, resolved to dwell no longer, he leapt from the bed and hurried down to the holding cells.

* * *

The area was a mess. Two cell doors lay wide open, their occupants having wrecked havoc along the concrete hallway. The rest of the cells were locked, unoccupied. On the floor lay two bodies; they were face down, so that Michael could not be sure of who they were. What was obvious was the fact that they were both dead, a bloody wound on each extending from the ear down to the shoulder.

The two escapees were lycans. And right now, only one of them had been captured. The other had his own hostage, the young Calvin Farkas. The man was inexperienced in dealing with lycans, his role in the compound more administrative than anything else. Seeing him held in a suffocating headlock made Michael realise that the situation was more than serious.

It was quickly becoming out of control.

There was shouting. The half-transformed lycan that was holding Farkas yelling instructions at the security team; the security team trying inexpertly to gain control of the situation. The lycan detained on the floor growling and swearing beneath its captor, Isaac Baxter, who was sitting on the creature's back to try and restrain him.

Nobody had noticed Michael yet. There was too much commotion, too much yelling and threats. The nagging question in Michael's mind as he watched was how the cells were opened in the first place. Detainees were only ever questioned one at a time. For two cells to be open…

Riley appeared in the doorway behind him, his own guards flanking him.

"Shit!" he swore, taking in the scene much as Michael had. "Two down."

"It's a full moon. They're both at risk of turning." Michael was trying to find a way to diffuse the situation. Several guns were pointed towards the standing lycan, who was shouting at the security team to drop their weapons.

"We have to stop this now."

On cue, the lycan took his opportunity to attack Farkas. The sound of the young man's scream was joined by the sound of fangs meeting soft flesh.

Guns went off as Farkas fell to the ground. For a moment the lycan appeared to dance as the bullets struck him. When the guns fell silent, he appeared to look down at his body, and, as if only seeing the extent of the damage were proof that he was hurt, he collapsed to the floor beside Farkas.

The second lycan, held beneath Baxter, released a guttural growl. His body was shaking, changing, right beneath Baxter's knees. The leader held his position as long as he could, but was finally thrown off.

The fully changed werewolf before the group stood facing them, snarling as he advanced. Michael could not understand why the security group was not firing. The animal was within range, perfect range. He was heading straight for them, and yet they stood motionless.

Fear was a very powerful enemy.

Releasing his own growl of frustration, Michael turned and took one of the shoulder-holstered guns from one of Riley's guards. He aimed, moving forward as he did so. When he fired, the bullet got the lycan square in the chest. Blood spurted.

These were not silver nitrate bullets, however, and Michael knew that while it would slow the creature down, it would not kill him.

He squeezed the trigger again and again; another two shots assaulting the monster: one in the stomach, the other his shoulder.

The werewolf paused, seeking out his injuries as he did. Michael took his chance and lunged. He caught the werewolf head on, the momentum crashing both of them to the floor.

Claws slashed at Michaels face and neck, but the wounds were only superficial. Michael just needed the perfect hold on the creature's neck. The perfect position and then crack!

The beast lay still beneath him, its head turned at 180 . Michael then repeated the same manouvre on the second, bullet-ridden lycan.

Instantly, there was movement all around. The security guards went to the aid of the two fallen men first, while Michael and Riley made their way towards Farkas.

The wound at the young man's neck was nowhere near as bad as the one inflicted on the other two guards. Farkas was still conscious, holding a hand to his neck as he looked up at them.

"Am I going to die?" he stammered.

Michael knelt down to examine the wound. It was familiar, almost the same wound inflicted on him by Lucian two years ago.

"You should be fine," Michael responded. "But you're a change risk. Right now, we've got to get you to the clinic."

"What about these two?" one of the guards asked, indicating the still bodies on the floor.

Michael looked to Riley for the answer.

"Burn the bodies," Riley said, emotion barred from his voice. "The lycans, too."

"Someone take Farkas to the clinic," Michael ordered straightening to stand beside Riley. "Tell Coran he needs a blood transfusion, and some restraints."

The orders were followed promptly, and soon it was just Michael and Riley standing in the holding cells alone.

"What the hell happened down here?" Michael asked in whisper, his attention focused on the blood stains on the ground.

"There was no forced entry," Riley said. "Someone used an access card to get here."

"But why would they leave the cages open?" Michael's question was left open; neither of them had an explanation.

And as it turned out, neither needed one.

Alert sirens sounded. The lights in the holding cells began to flash on and off.

"A reaction to this?" Michael asked, adrenaline already flowing through his veins.

Riley shook his head. "No," he replied. "This is something else. These alarms are only activated in the event of an internal threat."

Michael's skin was crawling, nausea settling in his stomach. "Was the whole security team down here?"

Riley nodded, not as yet seeing the link that Michael was.

"Then who's watching the security cameras?"

* * *

The clinic was Michael's first priority. He would deal with whatever damage was caused in good time, but he had to make sure Selene was safe.

There was a part of him that feared the worst.

And as the security doors to the clinic opened, the worst was what greeted him.

The first thing he noticed was the blood. It was smeared across the floor, as if someone gravely wounded had crawled or been dragged along. Calvin Farkas was seated in one of the hallway chairs, gritting his teeth and breathing heavily against the pain. The guard who was meant to be looking after him was nowhere in sight.

The body of one of the nurses lay against a wall, her stomach having caught an uncountable number of bullets. As Michael began to slowly enter the clinic, Riley behind him, he noticed the cause of the blood smears. The second nurse had moved to raise the alarm after being attacked. She now lay dead in a pool of blood.

The guard appeared at that point, standing at the door to the main exam room. "Michael, you need to come help," he said quickly, his voice choked with emotion.

Michael ran to the end of the hallway, every step bringing him closer and closer to an end that he did not want to see. The sound of the guard's voice said it all. Whatever was in that room was enough to bring a strong man to tears.

The first thing that Michael saw when he entered the room was the empty bed. The one of the IV tubes that had been connected to Selene's arms was now hanging from its post, dripping blood onto the floor.

Selene was gone.

He heard gurgling, and turned to find Dr James Coran lying on the floor. His white lab coat was torn and stained with blood. But by far the worst wound, and the doctor's death warrant, was the deep slash to his neck.

Michael knew instantly that he could not be saved, and judging by the look in Coran's eyes, he knew it too.

He knelt beside the dying man, leaning close.

Coran tried to talk, blood flowing from both his neck wound and his mouth. His hand reached for Michael's, and held it tight. A death grip.

"He took her," he managed to choke out.

"Was it Matthias?"

The doctor blinked twice, spluttered, but held Michael's eyes.

"Was it Matthias?" Michael pressed.

"Yes," Coran choked.

And then the grip on Michael's hand loosened completely. Coran spluttered before becoming absolutely still: another victim to the biggest fuck up the compound had ever seen.

Michael hung his head, his nails digging into his palms. Five deaths, one potential new lycan. But it meant very little to him.

Selene was gone, taken by Matthias.

Michael felt his temperature rising, his beast stirring.

He should have killed the bastard when he had the chance.


	11. Chapter 11: Loss, Love, Insanity

**Chapter Eleven:**

**Loss, Love, Insanity**

Pain was the last thing she remembered, and the first thing that came to her when she awoke.

At first, Selene's mind was hazy with the details.

Something with Michael…

He was angry…

His black eyes…

The scent of transformation lingering in the air…

And then he left.

That was it; the full reason for her pain. Michael knew the truth, the full truth, and he had walked out on her. She had tried to explain, tried to reason away the kiss. Of course he shouldn't listen. She had betrayed him.

And worse than betrayal; she had betrayed him with someone who was already ruining her life.

Why had she kissed Matthias? Too much emotion. There was no feeling in her heart for him at all.

Her heart was already full with the love she felt for Michael. For him, she would do anything. She would kill Matthias if it would solve anything. She feared that the situation had gone past the point of salvaging.

Lying in the exam room, alone in the silence broken only by the beep of the foetal monitor, Selene had dissolved into tears. What she had feared since learning that she was pregnant had come to pass. The hurt she felt from Michael leaving was equal to the hatred she felt for herself, for letting the situation lose control so badly. She should have been honest with him, should have told him everything. If she had, maybe he would have been closer to her; maybe he would have protected her, kept her away from Matthias.

Instead, she went straight to Matthias' arms and destroyed any hope of her future happiness.

She was still sobbing silently when Coran had entered the room, a look of concern on his face.

"Is everything alright?" After briefly scanning the room, reflexively looking for Michael no doubt, he looked at Selene with questions all over his face.

She nodded, managing a weak smile as she choked back any further sobs. "Everything's fine," she said. But her voice was too high, nowhere near convincing enough for the young doctor.

"I saw Michael leave. Did something happen?"

"No." Selene shook her head, trying at least to portray conviction in her next lie. "He was called by Riley. He had to go."

"Oh." Whether Coran believed her lie or not, she could not be sure. He crossed to her beside and checked the monitor read-outs.

"Baby's stats are still fine," he said, but the words had the message of calm before the storm; positive before a massive negative. "You haven't left this bed?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow at her over the pages.

She shook her head. "I've been here the whole time."

He examined the sheet once more. "Your stats are all over the place. How are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "Tired."

"You haven't slept?"

Selene could lie no longer. Lying took too much strength, too much effort. She did not have the capacity to be dishonest with anyone else.

What she wanted was to sleep; to fall into a sleep that would last a lifetime. Dreams were manageable, dreams were a cinch compared to life. She could dream that Michael was still beside her; even dream that the pregnancy had gone by without an issue. They would be holding their child, they would be happy.

She needed to sleep.

"A little," she responded. "All I want is to sleep." With the truth came tears, and Coran patted her knee gently.

"I understand things have been stressful," he said with his trademark warm smile. "I'll give you a mild dose of Ativan. It should help you to sleep through the night."

"Thank you." She smiled genuinely at him, thankful for at least a temporary escape.

She watched as he prepared the syringe, then injected it into the IV tube in her arm.

"It will take a little while to kick in," he said softly. "Just rest in the meantime."

"Thank you," she repeated. Already, the affects of the medication were starting to distort her vision, warp her mind.

"If Michael comes back," she said drowsily. "Tell him I'm sorry."

And then there was blackness.

She did not dream like she thought she would. Instead, she gained full rest for only the second time in five months.

And as she slowly returned from her slumber to a conscious state, she realised that her surroundings were different. The surface beneath her was cold and hard. There was still a clinical smell to the air, but even it was different.

Opening her eyes, she found herself gazing at a different ceiling. It took a while for it to come into focus, but once it did she saw that the ceiling was tiled, rather than the concrete ceiling of the underground clinic. The tiles were a metre wide, alternating with bright fluorescent lights of the same size.

When she tried to move, she found herself restrained. Her arms were cuffed at her upper arms, her elbows, and her wrists. Likewise, her legs were cuffed at her thighs, her knees and her ankles.

She could move her head, and as she looked up she was able to learn a little more of her surroundings. The room that she was in could have been any room in any house, there was nothing particularly clinical about it. The scent reaching her nostrils, she gathered, was from whatever was used to clean the steel exam table that she was now attached to.

From what she could see, the walls were lightly coloured, while the floor was coloured in something darker. She could not stretch far enough to see much else.

Beside her table was a second, much smaller table. Upon it were various surgical implements: a number of scalpels of varying sizes, forceps, clamps and medical gauze.

A third table sat beside that, with nothing on it but a folded towel.

She had been moved; this was one thing that she realised in an instant. When she realised that the foetal monitor was no longer strapped to her stomach, the scene started to make sense.

Caesarean; she would not carry the baby to full term. One task failed.

Were there sufficient props present to perform a caesarean? She was not a doctor in any sense; but with only the three tables in the room, she wondered what kind of place she was in. Clearly not one prepared for an emergency.

But then the more pressing question came to mind. _Where_ was she? Had they actually gone as far as to take her to a regular hospital to have this done?

Of course not. Nobody in the compound would have allowed it to happen. She was a vampire. Human hospitals wouldn't understand, couldn't cope with her type.

She was still hooked up to one IV, its stand bearing blood bag stationed at her head.

Possibly most confusing of all, and what was starting to make her anxious, was the fact that while she had been awake, she had been the only one in the room. There was nobody else present.

Selene felt she had sufficient cause to panic; but there was little that she could do. She was trapped. Surely this was not regular protocol for surgery…

"You're awake at last."

The voice sounded from somewhere beyond her feet. She did not need to stretch her neck to see who the voice belonged to. It was the voice she had been cursing for days, had been dreaming about for months.

Matthias stood at the foot of the table, a gentle smile on his face. "I was beginning to think you'd never wake up," he said, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Selene felt frozen. Something had obviously gone very badly wrong. Where was Michael? Where was Coran?

_Where_ for that matter was _she_?

Locking her eyes with his she asked him, "What's going on?"

He smiled again, seeming amused with the question. "What's going on?" he repeated. "I'll tell you, my love. I have just saved you from a life that was making you miserable. I have taken you away from the monster that you were living with, and have brought you where you belong."

She frowned, not fully comprehending. "What do you mean?"

He laughed. "You can't be so innocent and naïve after six centuries, Selene. You belong with me. Any fool can see that."

Her confusion was replaced in an instant by infuriation. "I do not belong with you," she snarled, raising her head to add force to her words. "I belong with Michael."

"That must be the sedatives talking. They do tend to knock people about." He moved up the length of the table, now standing by her head. His hand stroked her cheek. "Don't worry, my darling," he whispered. "It's been a long time coming, but now we can be together. Nobody can stop us; not your family, not Michael, not anyone."

She struggled against her binds but to no avail. She was held in place like a pinned butterfly, forced to listen as he regaled her.

"You never knew this," he began, his voice soft in reminiscence. "But Celeste was not my first choice in a wife. It was you I fell in love with."

Selene froze yet again.

"Your father wouldn't allow me to marry you. Not until Celeste was married. Then it was he who suggested I marry Celeste."

She could not believe the words she was hearing. Matthias had never truly loved her sister; it was she, Selene, who he had wanted all along. She was his trophy, and it seemed he had finally claimed her.

"We started sleeping together. And then when you fell pregnant, I knew he'd work out who the father was. That was when I left."

"And you never thought to mention any of this then?" she snapped.

"It would only have hurt you, hurt Celeste. I maintain that leaving was the best thing to do for all of you. For me, being away from you, it was hell."

Matthias smiled down at her, before lowering his lips to her neck. He nuzzled her, nibbled along her jugular.

Like Michael used to do.

Crying out, she struggled once again against her restraints, the movement enough to stop him from kissing her.

"It wasn't a coincidence that I found the cleaners," he was saying now. "I had been tracking them for the four months that you were with them. It was you I found first. I've been watching you for sixteen years."

Horror, bold and incredulous, was the only feeling she had. "What?" Surely she was dreaming.

"I never expected to find you," he explained. "I was watching one of the lycan dens one night when the death dealers attacked. And there you were. You were like something out of my fantasy. My erotic fantasy." He grinned at this point, a sensual growl vibrating in his chest. He reached out and ran his hand up her thigh.

She hissed at him in response.

"At first, I wasn't sure if it was you," he said, that look of sensual hunger still in his eyes. "But I heard someone speak your name. I had never forgotten our tryst, our love. I hated myself for so long for leaving you, and then I forced myself to accept that you were gone. I've loved since, but I've never loved anyone even half as much as I love you."

He turned his back on her now, and she could hear the clink of tools on the table. She knew she had to leave, but she was completely immobile.

"Of course, I could never approach you," he said softly. "You were trained to kill my sort. And so I was forced to watch; watch as you took meaningless partners to your bed, watch as you let yourself believe that you loved that Michael, that cur.

"And I watched as your stomach grew." Matthias turned as he said this, a syringe filled with clear liquid in one hand. "It angered me to know that you had let that _thing_ defile you like that, but that you had been impregnated by _it_…"

He shook his head. "I know you're programmed for motherhood, Selene," he said softly. "And you've been brainwashed to love this filthy creation. It may even hurt you to hear what I'm about to say."

Selene's mind froze. He didn't need to say it, but he was going to anyway.

"If I had come to you earlier," he continued. "The pregnancy could have been terminated. I know it's my fault, but as it is now…" He shook his head. "You understand. It's for us. If we're to be together, we need to have our _own _family, like fate had planned. I can't raise something that doesn't belong to me." He said the last part almost solemnly. "It's not even the same species."

"No," Selene whispered through quivering lips. "You can't, you can't do this."

"I don't want it to hurt you," he whispered in response. He knelt down, pressing kisses to her cheek, her lips. "I just want it gone. It has to be gone."

Matthias had Selene's IV tube in his free hand, the syringe en route.

"Please." She was sobbing now, fear and hopelessness seeping through her anger and disbelief. "Don't hurt my baby."

The syringe pierced the tube, and he plunged it slowly.

"I have to," he said softly. "It's the only way we can be together."

"No!" she cried out. Her vision started to blur at the sides. "You can't do this."

"I have to," he repeated. "But I promise, you won't feel a thing…"


	12. Chapter 12: The Happenings

**Chapter Twelve:**

**The Happenings**

Riley had enough medical experience to set Calvin Farkas up on an IV blood drip. With the help of the remaining guard, he even managed to have Farkas restrained in case of transition.

After ordering the guard to remain with the young man, Riley left the exam room to meet Michael.

Michael could not control his rage. The scent of blood in the clinic had become too much, fuelling his emerging beast. He sat in one of the briefing rooms, his hands balled into fists, drawing his own small pools of blood on the steel table before him.

One of two things had happened here tonight. Either way, the holding cell chaos was used as a distraction. Knowing that there was only security and one squad on hand, Matthias had made his move at the perfect time. Security would have seen what was happening on the monitors, and left instantly to assist. That was all that was required.

With security no longer manning the cameras, it left him free to go anywhere, do anything, and nobody could stop him.

With that goal met, Matthias had gone to the clinic, taken down those that tried to stop him.

He had reached Selene.

It was what happened next that Michael was unclear about. Either he had taken Selene against her will, or she had willingly gone with him. In Michael's mind, both scenarios seemed likely, both as plausible as each other.

Either way, regardless of how it happened, Selene was gone. She was with that bastard Matthias. He would have control over her in her state.

He had access to their baby…

Growling, Michael punched the table, causing two large dents in the steel. He cursed, ran his fingers through his hair.

And then Riley entered.

"There was no forced entry," he said as he closed the door, walking to take a seat opposite Michael. "He used a full facility access card on everything: the weapons store, the holding cells, the clinic."

"Someone was in league with him," Michael growled. "It would have to be one of the squad leaders. They're the only ones who can access the holding cells apart from us. And Selene."

"The security squad are back at their post," Riley said softly. "They'll be able to see exactly what happened and who accessed the restricted areas. I told them we'd meet them up there."

In the silence, Michael continued to think his dark thoughts, his eyes looking everywhere but at the man opposite him.

"Look, Michael." Riley leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him. "I know that this is a lot to take right now, and I can't even begin to imagine what's going through your mind."

Michael glimpsed at the commander before looking away.

"But if we're going to get Selene back-"

"_If_?" Michael growled. "_If_ we're going to get her back?" He thumped his fists on the table once more. The steel buckled under the force. "She is my life, my love. She's carrying _my_ baby. I do not want that _fucking bastard_ anywhere near either of them." He put a restraint on his anger, taking a deep breath. "There is no _if_ in this scenario, Riley. We are going to find Selene, and we are going to bring them back. I don't care what it takes."

Riley's face was stone. "Have you considered that she may have gone willingly with him?"

The question hung in silence; Michael's inner fear externalised.

He shook his head. "No, she wouldn't. Matthias has caused her too much stress. She cares too much about the baby and…" The word 'me' did not come easy to Michael in his current doubt. "She wouldn't leave the safety of the compound willingly, not knowing how vulnerable she is right now."

Riley accepted the answer with a stiff nod. "This is your war, Michael. You can have as many men as you need to find them and bring them back here. But you'll be the one calling the shots."

Now they looked each other in the eyes; hybrid to human.

"I am the commander of the cleaners," Riley continued, his voice still stern. "And I will lead them as dictated by Alexander Corvinus. This mission is out of my jurisdiction. We weren't created to kill; only to clean up and cover immortal hide. It's your mission. I'm not about to make decisions that could mean the death of your child. You handle this."

Michael continued to stare into Riley's eyes. The man was serious. He was not denying help; he was giving Michael full control.

Michael accepted the offer with a nod. "We should go to the security room then, and check out the footage."

* * *

The security team were fast workers. By the time Michael and Riley had arrived, joined by Riley's guards and Delta leader Isaac Baxter, they had ascertained who accessed the restricted areas, and found the footage of what had actually happened in the clinic.

"I'll run you through the footage first." The leader of security, Istvan Lurous, indicated a screen separate from the others. "We're still rolling on the rest of the compound," he explained. "We've captured the necessary pieces and put them together."

The small group gathered around the screen, watching as the events unfolded before them.

First, the holding cells.

Matthias entered calmly, with no sense of urgency. He passed unseen by Farkas, who was manning the watch desk at the time. He headed straight for the two lycan cells. There was hushed talk between the trio before Matthias unlocked both cells with the access card. More hushed tones. Matthias left.

Minutes ticked by, and all at once the lycans sprang from their cages, one charging instantly for Farkas.

Two security guards arrived at that time.

Lurous explained: "When we saw him down there, we figured someone had better go and check it out."

The two called for backup, and within seconds the scene had turned chaotic.

"That's what happened in the dungeon," Lurous said. "Now the clinic."

Michael watched the brief but memorable fight in the clinic, watched as he walked out on Selene in her hour of need.

He watched as she dissolved into tears; watched her turn from relieved to scared to inconsolable.

Coran had entered then, and from what the footage showed, injected her IV.

"We checked," Lurous said before Michael could ask. "It was a very mild dose of Ativan."

She was out in seconds, but not before leaving a final message with Coran.

'_If Michael comes back, tell him I'm sorry.'_

_If_. She didn't expect Michael to return to her. Her despair was genuine, the crushing sense of loss she felt almost suffocating even through the monitor.

He never should have left her alone. Damn Matthias to hell, he should have been more in control, more understanding.

He should have listened.

Instead, they now watched as Matthias entered the clinic, a UMP slung over his back, making his way casually past the rooms where Coran and the two nurses sat talking, unaware of their fates. He entered Selene's room and shut the door silently behind him. He crossed to her bedside and ran a hand across her face.

'_I'm going to make all of this pain go away,' _he said gently to her, before leaning down to kiss her lips.

Michael growled, his anger retreating only slightly as Riley placed a calming hand on his shoulder. Matthias clearly thought that he, that Michael, was the cause of Selene's pain. He had taken her because he believed that she would be happiest with him.

Matthias next unstrapped the foetal monitor, throwing it to the floor. He removed one of the IV cannulas from Selene's arm. Blood had dripped from her wrist only momentarily, before another kiss from the evil mouth of the lycan seemed to stem the flow.

He scooped Selene into his arms, pausing as she moaned a little in her sleep. That pause was long enough to have Coran enter the room.

'_What are you doing here?'_ Coran asked. They were the last full words he muttered.

"We've had to edit the footage slightly," Lurous said, sounding uncomfortable. "It was too fast to tell what was happening."

Michael watched the clock as Matthias placed Selene back on the bed, shouldered the UMP, and shot Coran a number of times in the chest. The doctor slumped. It was then that Matthias moved forward and sliced his throat.

Six seconds.

One of the nurses appeared in the doorway, no doubt aroused by the screams. She was shot several times, flailing backwards to the wall where she slumped, dying instantly.

Three seconds.

The second nurse entered and was also shot. She fell to the floor not far from Coran, face down.

Two seconds.

And then, slinging the submachine over his back, Matthias returned to Selene.

'_All safe,' _he said softly. _'We can leave now.'_

He lifted her into his arms once more, supporting her full weight in one arm, while the other held the remaining IV bag up to maintain blood flow. They exited the room then, bound for the stairwell.

The nurse on the ground beside Coran seemed to struggle, literally using her last ounces of strength to raise the alarm.

The footage ended on a black screen.

"We haven't pulled together the rest of the footage," Lurous said apologetically. "But it looks like he went straight down to the garage."

"That bastard!" Riley said quietly. "Using our systems against us."

"Baxter," Michael called. The leader was on his feet in an instant. "Get down to the garage. See if any vehicles were taken. We may be able to track him."

As Baxter left, Michael ran his hands through his hair, trying to think through his next move.

"So whose access card was used?" he asked, his eyes bearing into Lurous'.

"Security records show that all of the areas accessed by Matthias were from the same access card."

"I understand that, but whose card?"

Lurous looked from Riley to Michael. "Well," he said slowly. "The only other person to access the areas, apart from those of us who went to help-"

"Just tell me!" Michael snapped, turning the heads of the three security guards who were watching the monitors.

Lurous gulped. "It was Selene's card."

Michael sat back in his chair, frowning. "Selene was in the clinic," he said in disbelief. "He hadn't been to see her."

"Would she have given Matthias the card?" Riley asked.

Michael was incredulous. "Of course not! Selene understands the need for security restrictions. I don't understand why he would have…"

His voice trailed off.

_They had been in the gymnasium together that day when she had gone into false labour. _He_ had taken her to the clinic himself. Carried her, from what Michael had heard._

Could Selene have given her pass to Matthias in a moment of urgency? So much had happened since that Michael could understand why she would not have asked for it back. She had other things on her mind.

"Oh, no!" Michael said softly. "She gave him the card. She gave him the card to get her to the clinic."

"Shit!" Riley swore under his breath. "He could have held the whole place captive. We have enough ammo here to send us sky high."

"But he didn't," Lurous added.

"No," Michael muttered. "He wouldn't do that." He was standing from his chair, allowing pieces of the puzzle to slowly fit together. "All he wanted was Selene. Once he had her, what would be the point of blowing the compound up?"

At that point, Isaac Baxter arrived at the door to the security room, slightly out of breath.

"Any luck?" Riley asked instantly.

"He's taken one of the Jags," he managed. "We've tracked him to upper Budapest, inner city. We've contacted the road units already, and they're on their way."

Riley laughed. "We've got the bastard!" he yelled, clapping his hands.

Baxter smiled. "He probably doesn't even realise the car was bugged."

"Then the system works," Riley announced proudly.

For Michael, the news was bittersweet. It had already been an hour since Selene was taken. A lot could happen in an hour. Thinking back over the events of the past weeks, a lot of things had changed in under an hour.

Sighing, Michael ran his hands through his hair once more.

"I just hope we're not too late."


	13. Chapter 13: Giving Up

**Chapter Thirteen:**

**Giving Up**

The air was thick with the scent of blood. It entered her mouth, her nose, was sucked in by her very pores. And with it came hunger, primal and severe, which made her stomach ache.

She groaned at the feeling, having become so unused to hunger during the term of her pregnancy. She had been nauseated for the most part, unable to tolerate oral feedings.

Now, Selene felt that she could kill for blood.

For a vampire, that was not good.

Lack of blood started the hunger pains; a gnawing, all-consuming hunger that would send the sanest, most controlled vampire into a frenzy.

The frenzy was a total loss of control; a vampire would turn on their closest friend, their own family, in order to satiate their lust for blood.

If the need was not satisfied, the vampire would go into a blood coma, reversible only if an intravenous blood supply was provided. Within hours, if a blood supply was not provided, the vampire was considered clinically dead.

As Selene opened her eyes, the first thing she noted was that the IV blood bag connected to her arm was empty. How long for, she could not tell.

What she did know was that she was in an advanced state of blood lust, with the feeling taking over her mind, making logical thought impossible.

But on the edge of the haze, in a tiny corner of her conscious that was not yet ravaged by hunger, she caught a sound. It was a sound that caught her by surprise, a sound that managed to distract her from her need for blood.

A baby crying.

Selene knew instantly that the cries belonged to a baby. They had the broken, tremulous quality of a newborn baby's cry.

_Newborn_…

With all thoughts of hunger thrown from her mind, fighting against the blood rage that was building her inner monster, Selene lifted her head from the cold steel table.

She was no longer pregnant; the swell of her stomach to which she had become so lovingly attached was gone.

Her baby was gone.

And there was the crying newborn…

She tried to search the room, craning her neck, but her restraints held her tightly in place. As her heart gave a clench at the sound of the cries, she released a sob.

Matthias had not carried out his plan fully. The baby had been cut from her body, but was still very much alive.

The pain, the pain of hearing her newborn baby's wails, of not being able to see or hold it, of not being able to calm it, was far more extreme than the pain of hunger.

She found that she could not cry, tears would not come. She could only sob; dry, powerless sobs that accomplished nothing.

Her baby – the one she had cherished as it grew in her womb and had loved unconditionally despite horrific morning sickness and chronic weakness – was alive and crying out for her. And she could do nothing to stop it.

"No!" she cried out loud. Her throat and mouth were dry, making her voice raspy. "No!"

She struggled against her restraints, knowing in some part of her mind that in her state, it was all in vain.

When there was no give, she screamed. It was an animalistic, desperate cry of anguish.

When the only response to her scream was a higher pitched wail of fear from the baby, a new idea formed in her mind.

"Matthias!" she yelled, resuming her struggles against the cuffs. "Matthias!"

It took a minute or two, but Matthias appeared at her bedside, his brow knitted in concern.

"What is it?" he asked in urgency, looking her up and down. "You sounded like you were in pain."

She stared at him, incredulous. Heartache was mixing with hunger, increasing her anger by drastic amounts.

"Let me see my baby!" she screamed up at him.

Matthias face sobered in an instant, the lines of concern fading. "I don't think that's a good idea," he said softly. "You don't want to get attached."

"Fuck you!" she spat, lifting her top half from the table as much as possible. "I'm not staying with you. I want you dead, chopped into a thousand pieces and burnt to ashes. I hate you, and you are not going to take my baby!"

Matthias seemed nonplussed by her outburst. "I know you don't mean that, Selene. I know your true feelings." His uncomfortably warm hand stroked the side of her face. "I felt them the moment I saw you at the compound. When we kissed, it only confirmed that you still love me."

"Let. Me. Go," she growled, her hands fisted, straining her muscles against the restraints.

He turned his back on her, moving to a corner of the room.

The same direction as the baby cries.

"You'll feel better once you've fed," he said lovingly. "The blood of the young is very invigorating – the younger the better."

In that instant, a cold force gripped Selene's stomach, pumping through her veins until she was frozen, unable to fight.

Her only thoughts were of her baby.

And what his words were implying… _The younger the better_.

"What do you mean?" she stammered.

"I wanted to leave this part for as long as possible, but it looks like you're in the final stages of blood lust. If I don't start this process now, you'll go into a coma, and I don't have the facilities to bring you back."

Selene was stretching, straining, trying to see. "What are you doing?"

The baby emitted a high squeal of pain before it resumed crying at twice the previous volume.

"Matthias," Selene said through trembling lips. "What are you doing to my baby?"

He was silent. A minute later, she heard a trickling sound, as of fluid falling steadily into a bucket.

And the scent of blood was stronger in that instant…

"No!" she cried, her voice lodging in her throat. "What did you do? You can't do this! Please!"

Hearing the weakness, the defeat in her voice, Matthias was at her side instantly, concern on his face once more.

"It's okay," he soothed, gently stroking her brow with his fingers. "The blood will not be wasted. It will make you stronger."

"What?" Her voice was less than a whisper now, her disbelief too strong.

"I would have set up a direct transfusion, but I didn't have the supplies. Plus, I wasn't sure how her hybrid blood would mix with yours. If I administer it orally, we can use a smaller dose, test it to make sure it does not harm you."

_Her…_

He had said _in her blood_…

Selene's daughter.

Her baby girl was being bled to death, and once she was drained of every drop, Selene was to drink the blood.

The blood of her new born baby, who under any other circumstance given the choice, she would risk her life to save.

"No," she repeated, the word sounding less effective due to her dwindling energy. "Please don't kill my baby girl."

The concern in Matthias' eyes was increasing as he continued to pat her head. "You need to stay with me, Selene," he was saying, an unusual echo to his voice. "You'll have the blood you need soon."

"I won't." She was saying the words through numb lips, feeling the walls crashing in around her even as she continued to speak. "I won't live without them."

"Selene!" Matthias was shouting.

She vaguely felt her upper restraints being removed, felt herself get lifted into a pair of warm arms. Someone was slapping her cheek. She couldn't be sure whether her eyes were open or closed.

She couldn't muster the energy to fight any longer.

"No!" Matthias voice echoed around the emptiness of her mind.

She was being shaken, more slapping, more shaking. She was only vaguely aware of this.

Her last thoughts were concentrated on the cries sounding from the corner. They were either getting softer, or moving further away. She couldn't tell which the case was.

Either way, she knew one thing was for sure. They were both going to die; Selene because of Matthias' stupidity, and Natalie because of Matthias' insanity.

_Natalie_.

That was the name of her daughter. Natalie Celeste. She smiled. It was a perfect name for a perfect baby girl.

They were both going to die; Natalie so young, and Selene having lived long enough for both of them. Selene would embrace her daughter in the afterlife.

_Don't worry_, she thought as her last will to fight died out. _I'm coming with you, my baby_.


	14. Chapter 14: Set For Takeoff

**Chapter Fourteen:**

**Set For Takeoff**

The Alpha and Gamma squads arrived ahead of Michael's cavalry. Without entering the building, they had fully secured the area. Snipers were posted on surrounding rooftops, while fully armed foot patrols were posted on corners covering a four block radius.

If Matthias made any attempt to leave the area, he would be taken down. The order in the event of his attempted escape was to shoot to kill.

Michael hoped that the extra patrols would not be needed. He was looking forward to ending Matthias' life, to being present when the monster exhaled his last pain-wracked breath.

And Michael wanted the lead up to his death to be as drawn-out and torturous as possible.

More importantly, Michael needed Selene back. The lies seemed so insignificant now. He understood; she feared losing him if he found out the truth. And that was exactly what had happened. He had walked out on her, left her alone when she was vulnerable and needed him most.

He felt no better than Matthias.

Seeing her pain on the monitor when Michael had left her made him believe that her love was true; he saw pure fear, pure hurt. It was all captured on camera, how he had crushed her in one of the worst ways possible.

Just like Matthias had.

How could he ever have doubted her loyalty? She had given up work, had agreed to constant bed rest at Michael's request. She could not have made her feelings for him clearer.

Now, Michael had no idea what state they would find Selene in. Matthias' actions may have been those of a man possessed, but the footage had also showed him treating Selene with care, even love. He clearly meant her no harm.

But with the way the IV cannula was ripped from her arm, Selene would have lost a lot of blood. Did Matthias have the medical knowledge and the tools necessary to look after Selene in her condition? Was he even aware of how serious her condition was?

A number of questions and what ifs were flooding Michael's mind.

What if Selene went into labour?

What if she or the baby required blood urgently? Selene would go into a blood coma before she… He couldn't finish the thought.

What if, by the time Michael and his unit arrived, both Selene and the baby were dead?

It wouldn't happen. Michael assured himself that Selene would fight. She would not give up easily, and she would not allow her baby to die in front of her.

As they made their way past the first of the cleaners' roadblocks, Michael felt his chest tighten, his temperature beginning to rise. Anger clouded his vision. He tried to restrain his beast, tried not to lose control as the change came upon him. But the more he tried to stop it, the angrier his inner beast was becoming.

Two blocks from the building, he started shaking, an uncontrolled tremor that began in his spine and radiated out to every part of his body.

He was seated in the back of the squad van, opposite Arthur Riley. The commander, along with the accompanying Delta squadron, were watching Michael warily.

It was Riley who spoke, leaning across the space between them to be heard over the engine.

"You've got to get control of yourself, Corvin." His tone carried warning. "There are two precious lives in that building with Matthias. You don't want to end up losing control and killing all three."

Through the anger haze, Michael stared into Riley's eyes. The man was serious, he spoke with honour and authority. Whether it was the truth in his words or Riley's manner, by the time the van reached the building, Michael had his inner beast under control.

The hum of the engine died. The mood in the back of the van seemed to change. From wary fear, each of the men were now looking to Michael expectantly, ready for their orders.

He met Riley's eyes again.

_This is your mission, Michael_, he heard the memory ringing in his head, as clear as if Riley were repeating it now.

"Right," he began, clearing his throat. "Load regular ammo."

Already, one of the troops raised a hand. "Aren't silver nitrate bullets better to take down lycans?"

"Normally, yes," Michael conceded. "But I want Matthias brought to me alive if possible. Your first priority is finding and securing Selene. If she is found, I want to be notified straight away." He made eye contact with each of the men, finishing with Isaac Baxter. "Run through your drill."

Michael's first task was done. His men were ready, their objective clear. Now their squad leader would take over to ensure that each squad member was properly equipped before leaving the van.

There were headsets: each man was connected via link-up to the squad, not only within the building, but with the Alpha and Gamma squads positioned outside in case of back up.

They each carried a small arsenal of weapons. UMPs were the main weapons of choice, with two of the men carrying higher calibre hand cannons. Every one was armed with two fully loaded P99s including ammo for each.

As leader of the Delta squad, Baxter would be the first to enter the building, accompanied by two additional squad members. The first was armed with grenades and a hand cannon ready for urgent fire. The second walked a little behind the two, carrying a heat and movement tracking device. Even from the van, the device was already tracking Matthias as a red hot target.

Michael tried not to dwell on the fact that Selene was not even registering as a temperature.

The area surrounding the building was sparsely enough populated that they could enter without disturbing surrounding humans. The building itself seemed to hold only their target, no other civilians.

The setting could not be more perfect. All that was required was Michael's command, and the unit would charge the building.

Before giving the word, Michael spared a brief thought, a flickering hope before he shouldered his own UMP.

_Just let my love be safe_, he prayed silently. _Please, that's all I ask_.

Blinking tears from his eyes, Michael gave the command to move his troops out into combat.

"All right," he said, lowering his voice slightly to hide the emotion in it. "Let's get in there."


	15. Chapter 15: Search and Destroy

**Chapter Fifteen:**

**Search and Destroy**

Even from the entryway, the smell of mould and old death met Michael's nostrils. To the humans accompanying him, the scent may not have been quite as strong, but to him it was almost overpowering.

There were more, subtler scents in the room. The scent of blood was present, not as intense as the mouldiness, but no less apparent.

There was the scent of not-quite-lycan lingering on the air.

And underlying, the faintest trace, was the sweetest scent of all. It was the scent that Michael had breathed in every day for two years, the scent that he associated with love, happiness and life. It was Selene's scent, and it filled Michael's chest with warmth as it met his nostrils.

"We're in the right place," Michael said softly, his voice carrying across to every one of his comrades via their earpieces. "I can pick up their scents."

There had been doubt, even when Alpha and Gamma had set up their roadblock, whether the car had been placed there as a ruse; whether Matthias was leading them into a trap, and had taken Selene to another location. Clearly, they were giving the lycan more credit than was necessary.

The ground floor was empty in the most literal sense of the word. The floor, the walls, and the ceiling were all cement, with large cement columns stationed intermittently around the wide room. The scent of mould seemed to come from leaks in the walls, where water seepage had created lines of green fungus and rust-coloured stains.

Lloyd Wright was the keeper of the heat seeker. He stood close to Baxter, the monitor strapped to his shoulder like a weapon, watching the screen closely as he swept the receptor around the room.

"Right here," he announced, reaching a spot near the far end from the entrance. "Here, we're either right on top of him, or right below him."

"Buddy up and spread out," Michael ordered. "Find the stairs."

The troops followed his command, while Michael stood with Baxter and Wright, watching the red flashing figure of Matthias. The dot was still for a minute before racing to another part of the building. There, it seemed to slow, moving back and forth across a smaller space before stopping again.

"What's he doing?" Baxter asked out loud.

Riley's voice sounded over the headsets. "Corvin, the stairs are over here. Far Eastern corner."

In an instant, the entire unit was assembled at the bottom of the staircase. As was normal, Baxter was the one to lead his squad, Wright following close second.

Their progress up the concrete stairs was slow, one step at a time. It frustrated Michael, who would have been happier to charge ahead with his weapon blazing. He wanted nothing more than to shed his human exterior for the beastly interior that was bubbling over inside of him, to break through the walls until he found Matthias. Then, he would take great pleasure in breaking each and every bone in the monster's body.

But Riley's point was valid. They needed to be calm, needed to be in control. If any one of them went through trigger happy, there was likely to be a greater loss of life.

Namely, Selene and their unborn child.

Michael could only grit his teeth as he crept along behind the rest.

"There's a door up here," Baxter announced moments later. "It's made of steel. It's locked."

"Let me see," Michael murmured, already making his way past the rest of the squad to reach the top of the stairs.

Sure enough, the big steel door was blocking the way from the landing to the second floor.

Placing his hand against the cool surface, Michael thought about what potentially lay beyond the door. He would give his life to save Selene, spend every remaining second of his life in agonising pain just to see her safely back at the compound.

He gave very little thought to his next move as he backed away from the door, backing down three stairs before coming to a halt.

Baxter looked at him doubtfully.

Michael did not care. No barrier was going to stand between he and Selene, not if he could help it.

Even as he charged, his arms protesting as they met with the cold steel once more with force, he only had her face in his mind.

The steel groaned, buckled, began to give under his force. An eternity which lasted two seconds was all it took for the hinges of the steel door to give way with a screech.

Gaining his footing on the other side, Michael allowed for Baxter and his two back-up members into the narrow hallway before following.

Compared to the concrete jungle of the lower floor, this floor was almost surreal in its colouring. The hallway was without lighting, but the walls and ceiling were painted white to create a kind of luminous glow to the area. In stark contrast, the carpets were blood red, appearing almost black in the dimness.

Baxter turned to Wright, who checked the monitor. A thumbs up indicated that he felt they were close, right where they needed to be.

Again, their progress down the hallway was slow. One short step at a time, careful to make no noise whatsoever. Once more, Michael felt his frustration building. While all this care and caution was being taken, Selene could have been dying.

If she was not dead already…

Baxter raised a fist, indicating that everyone halt. They had reached an open doorway. He turned, making eye contact with two of his squad members. With a short hand gesture, he indicated for the two to check the room. They did so without hesitation.

The rest of the troop remained silent and still in the hallway as the men conducted a brief search.

"This rooms clear," a voice sounded from one of the two. "Looks like a sitting room. There's a couch, a TV that's muted. Nothing else."

Baxter responded to the broadcast. "Dig around a little more," he said in a whisper, heard clearly over the earpieces. "See if you can find anything suspicious."

"Roger!"

With another brief hand gesture, Baxter indicated that they continue forward. Michael was about to suggest that they quicken their pace slightly when a faint noise reached his ears.

"No! Please don't leave me. I love you."

It was Matthias' voice; he was sobbing.

Only one thing would make the lycan say those words…

"No," Michael said in a hoarse voice.

The word made his comrades stop. They clearly had not heard the voice with their human hearing.

But Michael heard it as clear as daylight.

"No," he repeated.

He quickened his pace, running to the end of the hallway. Behind him, Riley and Baxter had given up on their caution and were yelling out for him to stop.

Michael did not care. It was imperative he get to that room.

He heard footsteps running to catch up with him.

They never would, he was too fast.

He reached the doorway to the end room before they did.

He saw the sight that appalled him before they did.

The first thing that he noticed was a small steel table, on which there seemed to be a small bundle, wrapped in a bloody towel. From one end of the bundle protruded what appeared to be a red tube.

From the end of the red tube dripped a fluid that was undoubtedly blood into a bucket below the table.

His eyes remained on this for the briefest of moments before moving on to the larger table in the room.

Selene's legs were secured in three places by steel cuffs that were locked. Further up the table were six more cuffs which lay open, clearly having been used to secure her arms. Her torso and upper body was lifted from the table, lifted into Matthias' arms.

Her upper body was completely limp, her head sagging even against the lycan's futile attempts to keep her upright.

The IV blood bag had run dry.

"Please don't leave," Matthias said in a whisper, kissing her forehead where his tears had already fallen. "Don't leave me."

Michael took slow, steady steps into the room.

"What did you do?" he growled.

Matthias' oceanic eyes looked up at him, brimming with tears. "I tried to make her feel better," he was stammering. "I wanted to make her happy."

Closer now, Michael could see more clearly the bundle on the smaller table. He released a small sob as he took in the sight of the still newborn. It's face was pale, coloured only from the blood of birth. It was completely motionless. The tube that continued to drip blood into the bucket was attached by a cannula to its neck.

Only now did Michael realise that Selene was no longer pregnant. The newborn being bled to death was their baby.

Baxter and Riley reached the doorway at that moment, Riley cursing as he viewed the scene before him.

While the pair rushed to the baby's aid, Michael continued his slow advance on Matthias.

"What did you do to her?" Michael repeated, his voice lower and more sinister now.

"I wanted to help her," Matthias sobbed. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I love her."

"Put her down." These words were spoken by another member of the unit. As Michael turned his head slightly, he noted that all of the guns except those of Baxter and Riley were trained on the lycan.

Matthias did as requested, laying her gently upon the table. He put his hands over his head as he stepped away from the table.

Selene was motionless, lifeless.

"I didn't mean to hurt her," Matthias repeated. "I just wanted to make it all go away."

But Michael no longer cared about revenge. He no longer cared about ripping the lycan limb from limb.

What he cared about was lying on a table before him.

She looked so peaceful, so content, so utterly beautiful, that it made his heart ache. When he reached out a hand to check her pulse, he closed his eyes.

Nothing. No heartbeat.

"I'm sorry," Matthias stammered. "I honestly never meant for this to hap-"

Michael's punch threw Matthias four metres backwards, crashing him into the wall before he slumped to the floor. As the lycan attempted to get back on his feet, Michael shouldered his UMP and fired a full round into him.

Matthias staggered before collapsing to his knees. His face turned grey, silver seeping into his veins.

Michael may have asked for the rest of the squad to have regular rounds, but that didn't mean he could not carry silver nitrate.

He knew how much it hurt, after all.

"Take him out of here," Michael commanded, returning his attention to Selene.

"Michael," Riley was calling from across the room. "The baby has a pulse. It's weak but I think it'll pull through. We have to get it back to the compound now."

The words were lost in a haze in Michael's mind.

Selene lay stretched out before him, dead in every sense of the word.

It was Michael's cry of anguish which sounded in the room now, causing even his human comrades to cover their ears.

Hastily, he pulled at the cuffs restricting Selene's legs, freeing them instantly. He pulled her light, limp body into his arms. Fighting back tears, he followed the procession out of the building.

He nursed her body on the drive back to the compound, not yet ready to give her away.


	16. Chapter 16: Returning

**Chapter Sixteen:**

**Returning**

She was beautiful. Her downy hair was dark, an easy contrast to her healthy pinkish glow. Her eyes were rounded pools of midnight water; darkness hinting only subtly at a blue undercurrent. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips twin rosebuds puckered on the delicate porcelain of her skin.

The nursery was useless. As soon as Michael had seen her fully revived, in all her sweetness and innocence, he found that he could not be away from his daughter. The crib was moved into the bedroom, where he could easily reach her if she cried out in the night.

And even when it wasn't night, Michael spent most of his time in the room. He marvelled over the infant. Every sound, every movement, was a miracle. She was a miracle, a beautiful, perfect miracle made from love.

But this was not the only reason Michael rarely left the room.

The clinic was cold and unfeeling, not the right environment for a vampire in a comatose state to recuperate.

Now considered the prime clinician at the compound, Michael had made the decision to have Selene kept in their room. There, he could take full care of her, watch her constantly until she regained consciousness.

There were a number of causes that contributed to Selene's blood coma. Supplying nutrients to both herself and the baby meant she needed to feed twice as much, which did not happen from the moment she was taken from the compound. Matthias did not have sufficient blood supplies to keep her levels stable. And while they could not be sure how much blood was lost in the process, Matthias had also performed a caesarean to deliver the baby. With no new supplies to restore the blood loss, the coma became inevitable.

Michael was even now chasing away the massive loss he had felt at finding her body seemingly lifeless, no pulse, no breath.

It had been three days ago.

Riley was the one to suggest intravenous blood be administered to Selene. At first, they did not know whether they were in time to save her.

Only after a good seven hours did her heart start beating again.

And now, she was comatose. He watched her around the clock, dividing his time between Selene and their as yet unnamed daughter. He had faith that she would pull through, that she would awake to be with him again.

He would not consider the alternative.

Three days, and Michael had seen no-one but his two loves. Any contact he had was via phone. He had no desire to see anyone, to talk to anyone, until he was certain everything would be alright.

But in the meantime, he had their daughter. She may have been tiny, may have been unable to physically soothe him in his hours of crises, but she was the only light he had. She was his shining star in a world of darkness.

Still, he would not give up on Selene.

Leaving the crib, Michael moved back to the bed, sitting on the side nearest her. IV points had been set up via both of Selene's wrists and at the inside of her elbows, constantly feeding her. Michael monitored her stats: pulse, blood pressure, temperature. Everything was normal. All that was needed was for her to wake up.

"Please, Selene," he whispered, stroking the side of her face with the back of his hand. "I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry." He took her cold hand in his, squeezing tightly. "Please come back to me."

* * *

_Eternal sleep was a lot more pleasant than eternal life._

_There was sunshine, endless rays of sunshine that she could relax in. _

_The sky was always blue._

_There were never any clouds, no night; just day and sun and happiness._

_Long blades of grass that grew to knee height, and flowers that were all the colours of the rainbow._

_There was no urgency of being, just the freedom of enjoying the innocence and purity of life._

_And still, something was missing._

_Selene was meant to meet people in the afterlife, in the eternal sleep._

_Her parents, her sisters, her nieces._

_Her daughter._

_That had not happened._

_There had been visions, brief flashes that brought a smile to her face until they disappeared without a trace._

_Leaving her alone again._

_There was no death, no hunger, no pain in eternal sleep._

_And nobody else around…_

_The happy atmosphere seemed to become sinister with that thought._

_Perhaps in her previous life there was darkness, there was death, there was pain; but there was also companionship, love, and even happiness._

_There was Michael._

_And apparently in this place of happiness, there were also tears; tears that now ran down her cheeks at the thought of the love lost._

_Michael; his warm body, his glorious smile, his constant care and love that gave her life a whole new meaning._

_There was no Michael in this place, in this eternal sleep._

_And suddenly, she found herself desperate to wake…_

* * *

Michael was in a light sleep, light enough to still be present in the room in case either his love or daughter needed him.

He was stretched out beside Selene, her hand still within his. He lay on his side, having drifted into his doze while watching her, watching for any facial movements or reaction to his touch.

It was possible she was blocking him out; possible she did not want to return. He knew that walking out had hurt her badly. The question he now asked was how badly: was it enough for her to be afraid of returning to him, enough for her to give up on life altogether.

He wanted so badly for her to return to him, to show some small sign of life. Her heartbeat was a comfort, but he was beginning to miss her true presence.

Michael needed her to reach out so much that he even imagined her waking, imagined her squeezing his hand in reflex as she released a soft sigh.

He imagined her sweet voice saying his name.

"_Michael."_

No. Not saying.

Sobbing. She was sobbing his name…

His eyes opened in a flash and he sat up, watching as her motionless face came to life. She appeared to be struggling, appeared to be fighting against some inner pain that was tearing at her.

"Michael," she cried out again.

He brought her hand to his lips, kissing it firmly. "Selene. I'm here. I'm right here."

She frowned, eyes still closed. "Michael?"

"It's me, baby," he said softly, now stroking her cheek with his hand, catching her tears as they fell. "I'm here."

Slowly, her eyes opened. He sighed in relief to see those chocolate brown orbs. He had doubted whether he would ever see them again.

"Welcome back," he said softly, placing a kiss to her cheek, still holding her hand tightly in his own.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, her second hand moving to clasp both of his. "I'm sorry I lied. I'm sorry about Matthias. I'm sorry-"

He shushed her. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I should have listened to you. I never should have left you in the clinic alone. I'm the one who's sorry."

She lifted her head to kiss his lips firmly. "I thought I'd lost you forever," she whispered as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "I never want that to happen again."

"It's not going to," Michael said with a smile, stroking her back as he returned her hug. "I'm not letting you go ever again."

They were silent, still, taking in each other's scents and emotions.

Then Selene's sob broke the silence.

"Oh, Michael," she cried, pulling away from him. Her quivering hands moved to her flat stomach. "The baby. He killed the baby."

Michael pulled away from her silently, moving across to the cot. He heard Selene's gasp of surprise as she caught sight of it and her sob of pure joy as he lifted their daughter from within.

"She had lost a lot of blood," Michael explained as he carried the precious bundle to the bed. "And she was born prematurely. But she's a fighter."

Selene was sitting up, one hand pressed to her mouth. Her eyes were tearful, her shoulders quivering with unreleased sobs.

Michael placed the baby girl in her mother's arms for the first time, his own heart giving a jump for joy at the sight before him; a sight he thought he would never see.

Selene was too emotional for words, allowing tears of happiness to pour freely down her cheeks. The baby's eyes were open, gazing up at her with the innocent wonder of a newborn.

"She looks like you," Michael added helpfully.

Her brown eyes met his and she shook her head. "I never thought I'd-" Her words were choked off. "I never thought I'd hold her. I didn't even think I would see her."

"You both fought hard." Michael traced Selene's cheek with his thumb. "She needs a name, though. I didn't want to choose one without you. I'm not sure how much longer 'princess' can be used."

Selene laughed, a sound that was music to his ears. "What do you think of Natalie?"

Michael smiled. "Perfect," he said softly.

Selene reached out to him, her hand moving to the back of his neck, pulling his head down to her, bringing their lips together. She kissed him sweetly, passionately; once, twice.

She sighed as they pulled apart. "Thank you," she whispered.

Michael slid into the bed behind Selene, his chest providing her back with a resting place as she sat holding their daughter. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing soft kisses to her neck.

"I love you," he whispered.

In response, Selene drew her attention from their daughter to kiss him, her smile radiant enough to light the darkest of nights.

"I'll always love you."


End file.
